


Coincidence Is Not That Coincidental

by LuckyPanda13



Series: Coincidence [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Arthur is a little dumb, Blogging, Chatting & Messaging, Eames is a shit, F/M, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, No Angst, Romance, bottom!Arthur, top!eames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-22 19:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6092289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyPanda13/pseuds/LuckyPanda13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has friends. He has Ariadne and...<br/>He HAS friends. Seriously.<br/>Just not that guy who commented on his blog.<br/>That guy is a dick.</p>
<p>Companion work to <em>Coincidence Is So That Coincidental</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EvanescentDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanescentDreamer/gifts).



It was Ariadne’s fault.

It really _was_. Arthur was _not_ in the habit of sending messages to strangers, regardless of how frustrating or irritating he found their comments. Not that the comment in question was _wrong_ or even irritating. The comment in question was just a simple opinion. Spelled poorly. It just happened to be a comment on one of Arthur’s favorite blogs. Now, Arthur would post comments on the blogs themselves, but he avoided interacting with the trolls on the Internet as much as he possibly could. This particular post, he was disagreeing with the blog’s social commentary, making his point as succinctly and specifically as he possibly could. Arthur was never one to mince words.

He expected some form of a reaction from people. He usually got negative ones. As usual, there were plenty of flame messages in his inbox the next day. There were a few agreements intermingled in, with a scant message or two that thanked him for his perspective. And then there was The Comment. It wasn’t a message to Arthur in particular, just a comment on _his_ comment on said blog. And Arthur wasn’t sure how to take it.

 **theforger** – _2:38 am  
_ ur a man atfer mi own hrt, darling <3

Arthur wasn’t sure if it was the damnable heart, the horrendous spelling, or the stupid pet name that had him opening a private message to theforger, whoever he was and whatever that meant.

 **PointMan** – _8:56 am  
_ Are you deliberately spelling poorly, or is it dyslexia?

Granted, that wasn’t the nicest way to respond, but Arthur had sent it before he thought twice about it. Which should have been a sign. He _never_ sent messages or emails or even _texts_ without re-reading them at least three times to make sure he was saying what he wanted to say and it wouldn’t be interpreted the wrong way.

Somehow, this theforger person was just ruining everything.

But, it was Ariadne’s fault, because she told him he needed new friends. He did _not_ , in fact, need new friends. He had Ariadne and Dom and Mal. That was all he needed. Sure, Dom and Mal had graduated and were in the midst of planning their wedding while also dealing with graduate school in the most horrendous way, but that was no big deal. Ariadne was his best friend. He didn’t need anyone else. He was happy. He was.

But, Ariadne had been bothering him for _weeks_ about trying to have conversations with people he didn’t know. To step out of his comfort zone and befriend someone he wouldn’t normally have met. So, Arthur fully blamed her when he messaged the stranger online. He fully expected either an angry rant in response to what he said or to be ignored. Of course, once he found said person, he decided to stalk theforger’s blog. Which just made him feel creepy.

Much to his surprise, he found the blog to be an eclectic collection of everything theforger found entertaining or beautiful or whatever. There was an entire photo album of “Bloody Hot Men”, which included more than a few actors that Arthur had no shame in admitting were, indeed, hot. In fact, Arthur pretty much agreed that all the men were damn attractive. theforger had put little footnotes at the bottom of some pictures, pointing out the ones that he had masturbated to, with a simple “fap fodder”.

And Arthur wasn’t even _slightly_ entertained by that.

Strangely enough, theforger had a collection devoted entirely to Shakespeare. He had a different collection for stage plays, pointing out various characters he had the privilege of performing. But his Shakespeare page… It was a damn _shrine_ to the bard. It seemed that for every other character theforger had acted, he had twice as many Shakespearean roles. And the commentary he made on the scenes and characters he brought up were surprisingly intelligent. And also spelled poorly. Arthur wasn’t sure if theforger genuinely had dyslexia for how bad his spelling was or if he was just lazy.

 **theforger** – _9:22 am_  
nuthn so srs, luv  
jus lazy ;)

Well. That answered _that_ question.

Arthur was actually _more_ upset that this stranger was basically ignoring the rude aspect of Arthur’s comment. And was _still_ giving him stupid pet names. Arthur scowled at the screen, hoping his professor wasn’t paying enough attention to catch him _not_ paying attention in class. Arthur minimized the window, trying to focus on the lecture. He was _not_ going to respond to theforger. Nope.

 **PointMan** – _10:03 am_  
Do you really not know how to spell?  
Because it’s irritating to try to decipher what you’re attempting to tell me.

 **theforger** – _10:03 am  
_ got 2 kepe u interested, rite?

 **PointMan** – _10:04 am  
_ Mostly you’re just making me blind.

 **theforger** – _10:04 am  
_ Don’t worry, darling. I can write properly on occasion. ;)

Arthur _would_ have been surprised by the spelling, except he was a bit more preoccupied with the damnable pet name! He scowled at his computer again, gritting his teeth as he typed out a response.

 **PointMan** – _10:05 am  
_ Why are you calling me that?!

 **theforger** – _10:05 am_  
wat? dalring?  
bc u soudn lik a darling 2 me

 **PointMan** – _10:05 am  
_ Can you _please_ go back to the proper English? I swear, my eyesight is getting worse just glancing at what you just wrote.

 **theforger** – _10:05 am_  
u mean proper Enlighs lik American, rite?  
bc i don do merica Englihs  
u bloody colonials

 **PointMan** – _10:06 am_  
I’m surprised you spelled “colonials” correctly.  
Besides, no one said I’m American.  
I could be from anywhere.

 **theforger** – _10:07 am  
_ Lucky guess, darling.

 **PointMan** – _10:07 am  
_ I never confirmed anything.

 **theforger** – _10:07 am_  
True.  
But I’m still guessing American.  
You sound like a Yank.

 **PointMan** – _10:07 am  
__You_ sound British.

 **theforger** – _10:08 am  
_ nd bloody proud o it, darling ;)

 **PointMan** – _10:08 am  
_ You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?

 **theforger** – _10:08 am  
_ now y woudl i do that?

 **PointMan** – _10:09 am  
_ Because you’re an ass?

Shit. Arthur shouldn’t have said that. He was being rude.

 **theforger** – _10:09 am  
_ luv u 2, dalring <3

Arthur hated him. Whoever this guy was. He was being rude and the guy was being obnoxious! He was _never_ going to talk to theforger again. Nope. Especially since he had just proved himself right. He couldn’t be friends with random people because he tended to put people off. He had a sense of humor, though he didn’t show it very often. And he was _not_ , in fact, incapable of fun, like so many accused him of. But, he tended to focus on his studies rather than getting drunk on a week night, being hung over for his classes, and laughing about how stupid he was. He’d rather just _not_ be stupid.

“What’s wrong?” Ariadne’s voice made him jump. “Did your computer delete your essay again?”

“No.” Arthur grumbled, remembering when that _had_ happened and how upset he had been about it. He _still_ blamed the B- for that paper on his computer. He had forgotten he was having a study session with Ariadne before their psychology exam. He was so engrossed in his conversation that he _forgot_ a _study session_! Arthur _really_ didn’t like theforger.

“Are you reading comments to your blog again?” Ariadne peered over his shoulder, catching a good look at his screen before he could minimize it. She squealed loudly and in Arthur’s ear. “Are you _talking_ to someone _new_?!” She hugged him tightly. “I _knew_ you could do it!”

“I was just testing it out.” Arthur muttered, grumpily. “And I’m not talking to him anymore. He’s an idiot.” Arthur was lying through his teeth. Ariadne wasn’t even paying attention to him.

“What did you say?” She asked. “You weren’t being rude, right?”

“Ari!” Arthur scuffled with Ariadne for his laptop for a few minutes before Ariadne’s puppy dog eyes made him relinquish the laptop with a scowl. Ariadne scanned the conversation, brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she looked up and punched Arthur in the arm. “Ow!”

“You idiot!” She snapped. “Stop being mean to him!”

“No!” Arthur replied, rubbing his arm. “He’s stupid.”

“He’s not.” Ariadne glowered at Arthur. “You’re being rude, and he’s being charming in return.”

“He’s being obnoxious.” Arthur corrected.

“He’s _flirting_ with you!” Ariadne sighed. “Flirt back! Maybe you can get a boyfriend out of this!”

“First of all, no.” Arthur frowned at his best friend. “Secondly, he’s British. Long distance relationships tend to fall apart. Thirdly, I’m being rude. He’ll never fall for me. And lastly, _no_!”

“First of all, you have no reason not to try.” Ariadne argued. “Secondly, he’s British, but that doesn’t mean he _lives_ there. Thirdly, you’re being rude, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, I think he finds it adorable. And lastly, _you have no reason not to try!_ ”

“I hate you.” Arthur informed her. “Now leave me alone about a stranger on the Internet. For all we know, he’s a pedophile or a rapist or whatever.” Ariadne pouted, having to accept that as truth.

“But he could genuinely be a decent guy.” She pointed out. Arthur shrugged, conceding that point.

“Can we focus on psych, please?” He asked. Ariadne continued frowning at him, but let him change the subject. Arthur knew from experience that she was _not_ done with him. Not in the slightest. He exited the web browser, deliberately ignoring theforger and the little blinking dot that informed him he had a new message to focus on studying.

He took his exam, acing it, and went to lunch with Ariadne. She complained about the exam the whole time, making Arthur genuinely laugh. Ariadne chose that moment to point out that if he smiled more, he’d have girls and guys crawling over each other for him. Arthur then reminded her that the girls would be sorely disappointed. Then, they had an in-depth discussion about the merits, or lack-thereof of the male population at their university. Ariadne then pointed out the merits of the grad students, who were _all_ , in fact, better than their undergrad compatriots. Then, Arthur had to run to his chemistry lab, laughing as Ariadne accompanied him to get a glimpse at his TA. Arthur had offered to introduce her to him multiple times, but each time, the girl in question squeaked indignantly and ran away before Arthur could do so. Not that Arthur would deliberately embarrass her. Much.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t until after dinner, again with Ariadne, and he got back to his room that Arthur remembered the little message that theforger had sent him that morning. The one he hadn’t yet read. The one he wasn’t _going_ to read, because he wasn’t going to play theforger’s game. No. He was done with that bullshit.

 **theforger** – _10:12 am_  
hope i didn scar u off, luv  
ur so cute when ur all pissy

 _11:46 am  
_ omg, ur stupid smatr

 _12:59 pm  
_ im totly goin thru ur blog rite now

 _2:35 pm  
_ srsly, darling, we need 2 tlk bout ur unrsnable pectatns re ur future

 _4:58 pm  
_ im so in luv w u, darling <3

 _7:15 pm_  
ur Shakespeare knwoeldeg rivals mine!  <333

 **PointMan** – _8:11 pm  
_ Have you been reading my blog all day?

 **theforger** – _8:11 pm  
_ darling! u r back!

 **PointMan** – _8:11 pm  
_ Where else would I be?

 **theforger** – _8:11 pm  
_ ignroing me 4 th rest of eternity?

 **PointMan** – _8:11 pm  
_ Why would I do that?

 **theforger** – _8:11 pm  
_ darling! u _do_ care!

 **PointMan** – _8:11 pm  
_ Who else am I going to have to make me blind with terrible spelling?

 **theforger** – _8:11 pm  
_ i knew u luvd me <3

Arthur’s phone buzzed before he could respond, distracting him.

Mal –  
_Mon chou, Ariadne tells me you have a beau online?_

Arthur cursed.

Arthur –  
_No, I don’t. She’s lying to you._

Mal –  
_Who is this “theforger” she is telling me about then?_

Arthur –  
_A pest._

Mal –  
_You are having dinner with me tomorrow.  
__We WILL discuss this.  
__Don’t think about lying to me, mon chou._

Arthur cursed again. Why did Mal and Ariadne have to get along so well?! By all rights, they should hate each other since Ariadne had gotten a crush on Dom right when Dom and Mal had a pretty nasty split. They got back together against all odds. Somehow, Ariadne’s attempt at trying to steal Dom away turned into Mal and Ariadne respecting each other for their mutual love of Dom and they turned into friends. Girls were weird. Then, Ariadne spotted Arthur’s chemistry TA and was gone forever from the Dom Fan Club, instantly creating and joining and presiding over the Yusuf Is A Total Hottie Fan Club.

Arthur –  
_I’ll see you tomorrow, Mal._

Arthur took no time to compose a different text message.

Arthur –  
_I’m going to murder you._

Ariadne –  
_You love me. XP_

Arthur –  
_So do not right now.  
__You TOLD Mal!_

Ariadne –  
_Are you talking to him right now?_

Arthur –  
_I’m mad at you!  
__Focus!_

Ariadne –  
_Are you flirting yet?_

 **theforger** – _8:15 pm  
_ dalring?

 **PointMan** – _8:15 pm  
_ Why have you been stalking my blog all day?

 **theforger** – _8:15 pm  
_ Insatiable curiosity.

 **PointMan** – _8:15 pm  
_ I’ve been rude and you become curious about me?

 **theforger** – _8:15pm  
_ No one ever accused me of being normal, darling. ;)

 **PointMan** – _8:16 pm  
_ It irritates the crap out of me that you switch between good spelling and bad spelling.

 **theforger** – _8:16 pm  
_ Glad to know I can gt undr ur skin dalring.

 **PointMan** – _8:17 pm  
_ Switching in the middle of a sentence is rude. :(

 **theforger** – _8:17 pm  
_ AN EMOJI?!

 _8:18 pm  
_ Sry darling

 _8:19 pm_  
Hving an aneurysm rite now

 **PointMan** – _8:19 pm  
_ How did you spell “aneurysm” right but have it surrounded by the worst spelling to grace mankind?

 **theforger** – _8:20 pm  
_ I’m curious, darling.  
Do you _really_ think that _Sense and Sensibility_ is the greatest love story ever?

 **PointMan** – _8:20 pm  
_ What?

 **theforger** – _8:20 pm  
_ You have a post about _Sense and Sensibility_ , calling it the greatest love story ever.  
Do you really think that?

 **PointMan** – _8:20 pm  
_ Don’t tell me. You’re a _Romeo and Juliet_ fan?

 **theforger** – _8:21 pm  
_ Theirs is the truest love.  
But before you attack me!  
No, I don’t think _R &J_ is the greatest love story ever.  
Theirs is a beautifully tragic story.  
As a side note: Mercutio is the best.

 **PointMan** – _8:21 pm  
_ Mercutio is the only one in the play who had _any_ idea how stupid Romeo is.  
And he’s got the best speech in the whole play.

 **theforger** – _8:23 pm_  
O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.   
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes   
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone   
On the fore-finger of an alderman,   
Drawn with a team of little atomies   
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;   
This is that very Mab   
That plats the manes of horses in the night,   
And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,   
Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:   
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,   
That presses them and learns them first to bear,   
Making them women of good carriage.

 **PointMan** – _8:23 pm  
_ You skipped a bit.

 **theforger** – _8:23 pm  
_ Artistic license, darling. ;)

 **PointMan** – _8:24 pm  
_ Why do I get the feeling you just typed it up from memory?

 **theforger** – _8:24 pm  
_ Because I am a consummate braggart?

 **PointMan** – _8:24 pm  
_ Maybe because you have a shrine dedicated to Mercutio on your Shakespeare collection.

Arthur swore out loud. He was so stupid! He wasn’t supposed to _keep_ talking to the idiot! And he wasn’t supposed to think that theforger was a little attractive for knowing Shakespeare off the top of his head. Why had he gone through his blog?!

 **theforger** – _8:24 pm  
_ You’ve gone through my blog!

 **PointMan** – _8:24 pm  
_ Only because you stalked my blog first.

Arthur was _such_ a liar.

 **theforger** – _8:25 pm  
_ What do you think of my Bloody Hot Men?

 **PointMan** – _8:25 pm  
_ Some of them are more fap-worthy than others.

Arthur banged his head on his laptop. He was so stupid! theforger was making him lose all sense! Stop being stupid.

 **theforger** – _8:26 pm  
_ Have you fapped to my Bloody Hot Men?

 **PointMan** – _8:26 pm  
_ Not even once.

 **theforger** – _8:26 pm  
_ Aw! I thought we were getting to the sexting stage, darling!

 **PointMan** – _8:26 pm  
_ In your dreams.

Time to change the subject!

 _8:27 pm  
_ So, if you don’t think _S &S_ is the greatest love story ever, and you don’t think _R &J_ is the greatest love story ever, what _do_ you think is the greatest love story ever?

 **theforger** – _8:27 pm_  
Well, it depends on your criteria of love story.  
What constitutes a “love story”?  
What are the requirements for said love story to be “good”?  
What separates merely “good” love stories from “great” love stories?  
How often do you fap?

 **PointMan** – _8:28 pm  
_ Blatantly ignoring the last question.

Arthur found himself caught up in creating criteria for love stories with theforger for a good three hours. He, whoever he was, was surprisingly intelligent and creative. He thought of stories that Arthur wouldn’t naturally classify as “love stories” and argued how they fit the criteria they both laid out. Eventually, the conversation moved to “who was a better ________” with both of them posing various scenarios to each other. theforger had _strong_ opinions about James Bond villains, namely that they were all “tossers propagating the sexist agenda of the patriarchy”. Arthur laughed for a good three minutes straight as he read theforger’s rant. Then, he looked at the clock.

 **PointMan** – _2:42 am_  
Shit!  
It’s late.  
I’ve got to go.

 **theforger** – _2:42 am  
_ Don’t you mean “early”, darling?

 **PointMan** – _2:42 am  
_ Depends on the time zone.

 **theforger** – _2:42 am  
_ Well, it’s nearly 3 in the morning for me, so I’m going to go with “early”.

Wait, what? Arthur froze in the middle of his response, staring at _nearly 3 in the morning for me_. He thought theforger was British. Why was he in the same time zone as Arthur?

 _2:43 am  
_ And shite. I have class tomorrow.

 **PointMan** – _2:43 am  
_ You have class?

 **theforger** – _2:43 am_  
Oops. Was I not supposed to reveal private information about me?  
Besides, you probably won’t believe me anyway.  
I’m a TA. I’ve got a bunch of tests that I haven’t yet graded that I have to give out tomorrow.

 **PointMan** – _2:43 am  
_ I’ve got class tomorrow, too.  
But I’m _taking_ said class, not TA-ing it.

 **theforger** – _2:44 am_  
I do believe that you’re tired, darling.  
You’re turning nouns into verbs.  
Good morning!  
Parting is such sweet sorrow!

 **PointMan** – _2:44 am  
_ Idiot.

Arthur kept grinning at his computer screen as he shut down his laptop. He was going to have to come up with a better name for theforger to call him, but it seemed wrong to impose a name on the man, when he didn’t even know him. Well, he kind of knew him. A conversation for a few hours spent in heavy debate wasn’t the same as _knowing him_. Arthur shook his head as he got ready for bed. He had no business getting attached to some stranger online that made him laugh harder than Ariadne ever had.


	3. Chapter 3

Ariadne was impossible the next day. She bothered Arthur incessantly about theforger and _had he flirted_ and _what’s he like_ and _do you know his name yet_ and by the end of lunch, Arthur was ready to murder the girl. And then, Arthur had to deal with his insufferable TA, Robert Fischer. Robert had been flirting with Arthur since Arthur first stepped into the classroom. Arthur tried letting the older man down as gently as he could and when _that_ didn’t work, he went with a blunter option. Somehow, Robert didn’t think that Arthur’s _hell, no_ was genuine.

By the time that class was done, Arthur was pissed and irritable and _not_ prepared for dinner with Mal. He would just be snippy and he hadn’t gotten to see her in a while and he didn’t want to upset her by being in a bad mood. Irritated, he settled in the dining hall, where Mal said she was going to meet him, and pulled out his laptop. He still had some time to kill before Mal would show up. Maybe theforger sent him something in the interim. It would _definitely_ put him in a better mood if theforger managed to make him laugh before Mal arrived. He logged on to his blog, finding a series of messages from theforger. He bit back the smile at the little icon that let him know he had messages in his inbox. Damn it all. theforger was just some random guy on the Internet. Who was a TA and also lived in the same time zone. Which meant _nothing_ because the time zone was shared with 1/24 th of the entire Earth. That was a lot of ground to cover.

 **theforger** – _8:33 am  
_ Darling, I’m afraid my grammar may actually suffer because I’m sleep deprived, rather than becasuse I’m lazy.

 _8:34 am  
_ And fro some reason, it is bothering me that youve never seen _Love Actually_.  
What are you? Some kind of snob?

 _8:35 am_  
You probably are.  
No offense, darling.

 _8:36 am_  
And I should be grading right now.  
But I’m a bit distracted.

 _8:37 am  
_ You see, you should watch the msterpece that is _Love Actually_.  
If you lvoe me, you’ll watch it.

 _8:38 am  
_ Oh, god, today’s gonna suck.

 _8:39 am  
_ sO fuckin tired

 _8:40 am  
_ It’s all your fault, darling

 _8:41 am  
_ Makin me stay up late to debate with your fantastic brain.

 _8:42 am  
_ I confess, I’m just messaging you to keep myself awake.

 _8:43 am  
_ Not enough tea for this bullshit

 _8:44 am  
_ God. The tea in America _sucks_.

 _8:45 am_  
You bloody colonials.  
Always ruining good tea by tossing it in a harbor.

Arthur was amused by the suspicious time gap that appeared.

 _10:06 am_  
Fuck!  
Dalring, your suppose to kep me awake!  
Damn it al.  
Your little icon is mocking me.  
I hate it.  
Specifically the part where it tells me youre offline.

Arthur actually started _giggling_ at theforger’s notes. He could just _imagine_ someone like him whining about not getting enough sleep. He abruptly wished he could hear theforger’s voice, just so he could know how theforger would say certain things. Arthur blinked and shook his head, trying to clear that thought away. Wow. He was _not_ getting attached to a stranger on a blog website with a penchant for terrible spelling. And he did _not_ find the fact that theforger’s grammar fell apart the more tired he got adorable. Not in the slightest.

 **PointMan** – _6:00 pm  
_ I promise to watch _Love Actually_ soon.  
I’m sorry that our tea sucks. I wouldn’t know since I don’t drink tea.  
I’m sorry you don’t like my icon. I thought it was adorable.

 **theforger** – _6:00 pm_  
Darling, you’re going to be the end of me.  
YOU’VE NEVER HAD TEA?!  
This is a problem.  
I can’t believe you’ve never had tea.

 **PointMan** – _6:00 pm_  
I didn’t say I’d never had tea.  
I said I didn’t drink tea.

 **theforger** – _6:00 pm_  
Impossible.  
If you had tea, you would drink it.

 **PointMan** – _6:00 pm_  
I’ve had tea.  
I didn’t like it.

 **theforger** – _6:00 pm  
_ If you’ve had the shite that you people call “tea”, then I quite understand, darling.  
I will teach you _proper_ tea.

 **PointMan** – _6:01 pm_  
I can’t stay long.  
I’m meeting a friend for dinner. I haven’t seen her in a long time.

 **theforger** – _6:01 pm_  
By all means, attend to your friend.  
I have detailed instructions to write out for you.  
Pay me no mind.

Arthur chuckled at the brush-off and thought about typing up a response.

“ _Mon chou!_ ” Mal piped up, from over his shoulder, making Arthur jump. “Why are you smiling so brightly?”

“Mal!” Arthur snapped his laptop shut and hopped up to hug her.

“You are messaging this ‘theforger’.” She looked more than a little amused. “Is he what makes you smile?”

“No.” Arthur scowled. “I’ve already gotten the interrogation from Ari today. Can we not for the moment?”

“ _Ça va._ ” Mal waved her consent and dragged him into one of the lines, talking nonstop about her upcoming nuptials to Dom. By the time they made it through the line, back to their table, and had finished eating, Arthur was sure he had heard _every detail_ of Mal’s wedding, including her man of honor. She and Eames, what kind of a name was Eames anyway, had gone to the same boarding school and become very close. They maintained that friendship for years. Mal went out of her way to try to set Arthur up with Eames.

“You two would be so cute.” Mal informed Arthur. “Eames would adore you.”

“Please don’t, Mal.” Arthur sighed.

“Fine.” Mal rolled her eyes. “If I cannot set you up, tell me what about this ‘theforger’ makes you smile like nothing else.”

“What?” Arthur blinked. Mal had always changed topics frequently with an abruptness that was hard to follow at times.

“This blogger you are friendly with.” Mal smiled enigmatically at him.

“He’s just a guy.” Arthur frowned. “He’s funny, too. It’s nothing serious. He’s just a friend on the Internet.”

“What is this friend’s name?” Mal asked.

“I don’t know.” Arthur frowned. “I’m not just going to _ask_. That’s rude.”

“Fine.” Mal pouted for a moment. “What’s he like?”

Arthur spent the next hour dodging and fielding questions from Mal like his life depended on it. He just wanted to get back to his blog and talk with theforger some more. But, even when he and Mal parted and he got back to his room, he knew he had an unreasonable amount of homework he hadn’t even looked at. He didn’t do _any_ of the homework he was supposed to do the night before. He had to at least get his stuff done before he would allow himself to look at what theforger sent him.

He didn’t have the opportunity to look at his blog until the next evening, when he _finally_ caught up on all his homework. What he found was, true to theforger’s words, and in-depth, detailed explanation of How To Make A Proper English Tea: A Guide For You Bloody Yanks Who Like To Ruin Good Tea, You Fucking Twats. Literally. That was the title theforger left him with. Because he thought he was damn hilarious. Never mind that Arthur chuckled for a good minute over said title. That was _entirely_ beside the point. theforger’s messages trailed off into whining about “stupid fucking Yanks” and how his entire class was full of idiots and how he _hated_ freshmen.

 **theforger** – _8:16 pm_  
I’m starting to think you don’t love me anymore, darling.  
But then again, I don’t think you’ve even been on in the last twenty-four hours, anyway.

 _8:17 pm_  
Hey!  
Your little icon is all “I’m here!” now!  
This pleases me.

 **PointMan** – _8:17 pm  
_ You’re so weird.

 **theforger** – _8:17 pm  
_ Awww… Darling, I missed you, too.

 **PointMan** – _8:17 pm  
_ I was busy. And I haven’t had time to either try tea or watch _Love Actually_.

 **theforger** – _8:17 pm  
_ You break my heart, darling.

 **PointMan** – _8:17 pm  
_ If I didn’t break your heart by calling you a dyslexic asshole, I doubt anything will.

 **theforger** – _8:17 pm  
_ If you hate _Love_ _Actually_ , that might actually be the line, darling.

 **PointMan** – _8:17 pm  
_ Watch _The Princess Bride_ and then we’ll talk.

 **theforger** – _8:17 pm  
_ Deal, darling.

 **PointMan** – _8:17 pm  
_ Since I have no way of obtaining the “correct” tea right now, the only thing I can do is watch _Love Actually_.

 **theforger** – _8:17 pm_  
Not worth it.  
You must experience both at once.

 **PointMan** – _8:17 pm  
_ Okay. I’ll get the tea tomorrow, since it’s a Saturday.

 **theforger** – _8:18 pm_  
Oh! Here’s an idea, darling!  
We watch the movies at the same time.  
Give each other commentary.  
And we both drink tea.  
Made the proper way, of course. ;)

 **PointMan** – _8:18 pm  
_ Of course.

 **theforger** – _8:18 pm  
_ I want to take that as absolute agreement, but I feel like you’re just being sarcastic.

 **PointMan** – _8:18 pm  
_ How could you tell?

 **theforger** – _8:18 pm  
_ You’re delightful.

Arthur had never been called delightful before. Especially not for his dry sarcasm. Mostly, he was called an asshole. Or bitchy. He stayed online for a couple of hours, just talking with theforger in a way that was quickly becoming addicting. At ten, Ariadne came barging into his room, informing him that they were going to a party and he needed to get his ass in gear because if she had to drag him to the party, there were going to be serious consequences. Arthur quickly typed out his apologies to theforger and logged off, getting dressed in whatever it was Ariadne threw at him.

She appraised his t-shirt and jeans for a long moment. She reached up and messed his hair out of the carefully gelled-back look Arthur had been wearing every day as long as he could remember. He always looked young for his age and slicking his hair back helped age him a little. Of course, so did the suits. So, when stuck in jeans, a t-shirt, a ratty pair of old Converse and his hair in a messy, just-out-of-bed look, he looked like a high-schooler.

Ariadne finally nodded her approval, grabbed his arm and hauled him out of his dorm. She barely gave him enough time to lock his door before dragging him along. Arthur learned not to complain. He would let her drag him to a party. And then tomorrow, he’d get use of her car to go to a store to get what he needed for a “proper English tea”. And she couldn’t complain if he didn’t complain tonight.

That didn’t stop Ariadne from asking _all_ sorts of questions as she drove him to the store. Of course, when all he did was blush, it just made her more curious. She was not stupid, though, and managed to figure it out before they got there, wisely deciding to _not_ tease him mercilessly, especially when he had _so_ much fodder against her regarding Yusuf. Of course, the reason they went to said party was to see Yusuf. Well, watch Yusuf. From across the room. As he laughed and talked with one of the most gorgeous beings Arthur had ever set his eyes on.

Yusuf’s friend was _built_. Like, he was broad and he looked like he was no stranger to the gym. Arthur himself was no slouch, hoping that building some muscle would keep him from being bullied in high school. Sadly, it didn’t work, since he didn’t get _buff_ , but instead maintained his slim figure. He kept up with the habit, though, since it was a good way for him to meditate and ignore the lists of things he had to do for the rest of the day.

But Yusuf’s friend was buff in the way Arthur couldn’t achieve. When he smiled, there was a flash of crooked teeth between his stupidly plush lips. Like, seriously. The man had girl lips. He had no right to have lips that looked _that_ kissable. God. Arthur just needed to get laid. Seriously. The man made the people around him laugh with an easy-going manner that Arthur wished he could duplicate. And, on top of that, he was completely at ease with himself in such a drunken environment. He didn’t even look intoxicated.

So, Ariadne and Arthur sat next to each other, sipping their drinks and watching the pair of men across the room as they laughed and talked. They had an in-depth conversation as to why they were creepy and needed to either suck it up and talk to the men or go home and masturbate to take the edge off their feelings. They did neither. Instead, they both got pleasantly tipsy and went back to Ariadne’s room, where Arthur collapsed on the floor of her dorm while Ariadne passed out on her bed.

“Are we pathetic?” Ariadne asked, on the way back from collecting what Arthur needed for tea.

“Yep.” Arthur agreed without a second thought. “I could always introduce you to Yusuf, if you want to be less pathetic.”

“I kind of like being pathetic.” Ariadne replied. “Then I can feel sorry for myself for not having guts, not feel sorry for myself because he’s out of my league.”

“Ari, he’s a chemistry nerd.” Arthur said, slowly. “He’s not out of _anyone’s_ league.”

“That’s mean!” Ariadne snapped. “And there are _plenty_ of chemistry nerds out there who are perfectly awesome and _way_ out of our leagues. Don’t stereotype.”

“Too late.” Arthur grinned. He had no problem teasing Ariadne incessantly, especially since she enjoyed interrogating him just as much. “Besides, he’s my TA. I know perfectly well how nerdy he is.”

“Shut up and enjoy your damn British tea.” Ariadne grumbled.

“You might want to take pointers.” Arthur chuckled. “Yusuf drinks tea.”

“Teach me!” Ariadne insisted.

“I will once I learn how to do it myself.” Arthur promised.


	4. Chapter 4

**theforger** – _1:57 pm  
_ Are you prepared, darling?

 **PointMan** – _1:57 pm  
_ I’ve got the tea ready.  
I’ve got _Love Actually_ set up.  
All that’s left is to hit play.

 **theforger** – _1:57 pm  
_ Wonderful. I am also prepared.

 **PointMan** – _1:57 pm  
_ Okay, the instant it turns 2, we both hit play.

 **theforger** – _1:57 pm  
_ It’s 2 where you’re at?

Shit. Arthur stared at his screen blankly until a new message from theforger popped up.

 _1:58 pm_  
I mean, I knew you were American, but I didn’t know we were in the same time zone, darling.  
You knew, didn’t you?  
And you didn’t tell me?!

 _1:59_  
This is information I need, darling!  
I feel betrayed. </3

 **PointMan** – _1:59 pm_  
Shhhh.  
The movie is about to start.

 **theforger** – _1:59 pm  
_ You _are_ aware that we can start the movie whenever we want, right?

 **PointMan** – _1:59 pm  
_ Are you going to join me or make me do this alone?

 **theforger** – _1:59 pm  
_ Shutting up.

Arthur found himself begrudgingly liking the tea, though not as much as theforger swore by. Maybe he needed a different tea blend and he’d enjoy it like it was religious experience, too. The movie was amazing. Arthur and theforger kept a steady stream of commentary throughout, making Arthur laugh and cry in turn. He relayed that information over to theforger before he could think about it and the next thing he knew, the man was teasing him mercilessly about crying. Though, to be fair, theforger swore that he cried, too.

Arthur and theforger maintained contact for a good three months, going over their exams and the holidays. Ariadne never stopped asking about theforger, but that was probably because Arthur never shut up about him. Arthur spent _way_ too much time going over theforger’s blog, particularly the Bloody Hot Men page. It was there that he found a picture of Yusuf’s friend from the party, giving Arthur a heart attack. The man was shirtless wearing low-riding sweat pants and not even looking at the camera. And he had tattoos. Arthur’s heart stopped. It was definitely a professional-grade photograph. Yusuf’s friend was a model?! And how did theforger get it? Well, that was a pretty stupid question. Most of the pictures on the page were off of Google searches anyway. He probably just googled “bloody hot men” and that’s what came up. Arthur had never thought about _his_ type in any respect, since he assumed he was going to be by himself forever. He was finding out, through theforger’s blog, _exactly_ what his type was. And his type was apparently Yusuf’s friend.

Arthur spent an unreasonable number of hours looking at that stupid picture. He would never admit it to anyone, but he also spent an unreasonable number of hours masturbating to said picture. To make himself feel _less_ like a creep, he found some other photos in the collection and masturbated to them, too. He felt less weird when he matched the photos he got off to with the ones theforger admitted to his “fap fodder”. Not that Arthur would _ever_ tell the stupid man. Especially when Arthur fantasized about a tall, British man pressing him against the wall, whispering “darling” in his ear in a needy, destroyed voice while grinding their hips together…

Okay, Arthur had a newfound fixation on his blog buddy. If by “fixation”, he meant “totally and completely in love with”. Because while Yusuf’s friend was hot, and _totally_ worth masturbating to, theforger was… Intimately familiar with Arthur on an emotional and intellectual level. He never failed to put Arthur in a good mood. Which should have been more dangerous to Arthur than it was.

It was a new semester, a new schedule, and new stresses when Arthur learned theforger’s name. He was distracted from Ariadne’s admission that she had decided to take chemistry, ending up in Yusuf’s lab section. Arthur was so happy for her that he bought her dinner. He logged on that night, expecting a new movie from theforger. They had multiple meet-ups when they watched movies together, trading off who picked the movie. There were a few differences of opinion, but they agreed on movies for the most part. It was theforger’s turn to pick a new movie, since Arthur had them watch _The Boondock Saints_ the previous weekend. Eames was trying to suggest that they watch  _50 Shades of Grey_. Not because he had ever seen it and wanted to get Arthur's opinion. But because he was curious about the movie and thought it would be funny to expose them both to it.

 **PointMan** – _7:44 pm  
_ Oh, god.

 **theforger** – _7:44 pm  
_ Darling, I’m starting to think that you don’t trust me.

 **PointMan** – _7:44 pm  
_ I don’t.

 **theforger** – _7:44 pm_  
You’re such a liar.  
I trust you with my name.

 **PointMan** – _7:45 pm  
_ You’ve never told me your name.

 **theforger** – _7:45 pm  
_ Eames.

What kind of a name was that? Arthur blinked at his screen for a moment. He thought he had heard that name before. How common could the name be? He googled it to check. As it turns it, the name was not unpopular. In fact, it was disgustingly more common in the UK than Arthur wanted to admit. So, wherever he had heard the name before, it wasn’t likely to be the same person. There was _no_ way coincidence was _that_ likely.

 **PointMan** – _7:46 pm  
_ I’m Arthur.

They had been talking to each other for months. Arthur knew basically all of theforger’s… Eames’ backstory. And he had revealed a ton of personal information to Eames himself. There was no point in keeping his name a secret anymore. They had long since passed that point.

 **theforger** – _7:46 pm  
_ Pleasure to meet you, Arthur.

 **PointMan** – _7:46 pm  
_ It’s nice to meet you, too, Eames.

Arthur was smiling at his computer screen when he heard the knock on his door. He got up and let Ariadne in. She was grinning giddily and started talking about Yusuf and how _he talked to her!_ Arthur had to inform her to breathe between sentences. Ariadne was giggly and unfocused as she flopped onto Arthur’s bed. Arthur settled behind his laptop, laughingly informing Eames all about Ariadne’s current giddiness. Eames knew her as A and Yusuf as Y, since Arthur had been regaling Eames with stories of Ariadne’s crush for almost the entire time they had been talking.

 **theforger** – _7:59 pm_  
She sounds adorable.  
But not more adorable than you, darling. ;)

 **PointMan** – _8:00 pm  
_ You’re weird.

Ariadne caught on to Arthur’s fond eye roll and abruptly focused herself. She snatched Arthur’s laptop from him and settled on the bed to read their conversation. Arthur yelped and tried to fight for it back.

“If you don’t keep me informed, I _will_ break into your laptop and read it all myself.” She informed him primly.

“Ari…” Arthur eyed her confident look and knew better than to argue with it. So, he settled on the bed next to her and started telling her about Eames. Well, all the non-confidential information about Eames. There was plenty that Arthur knew about Eames that Arthur was _sure_ shouldn’t be shared. So, he omitted where necessary. Ariadne turned into a squealing mess about two minutes into his story. He stopped paying attention to the blog as he spoke, meaning that when he looked back at the screen, it was filled with messages from a bored Eames.

 **theforger** – _8:01 pm  
_ Darling, don’t leave me!

 _8:02 pm_  
I’m bored.  
Entertain me.

 _8:03 pm  
_ I swear, if you don’t start paying attention to me…

 _8:04 pm  
_ I’m not exactly sure where that threat was going to go…

 _8:05 pm_  
I have it!  
I will torture you!

 _8:06 pm  
_ You leave me no choice.

 _8:07 pm  
_ dalring, u ned 2 cum back bc i mis u

 _8:08 pm  
_ nd m SPER BOERD

 _8:09 pm_  
nd if this doesnt work, i dunno what wil  
pls ansr, dalrign

 _8:10 pm_  
hey  
rember when we were tlkng abt mi blody hot men?

 _8:11 pm  
_ i totes fap whn i go back 2 lok at them

 _8:12 pm  
_ i mght b fapping now

 _8:13 pm_  
m not  
m a liar  
sry 4 lyin 2 u </3

 _8:14 pm_  
do u fap to mi pics  
i hop u do

 _8:15 pm  
_ theyr hot

 _8:16 pm_  
i bet u hav favrites  
tel mi u hav favrouties

 _8:17 pm_  
Arthur  
BORED  
Fix it!  
Please?  
:(

 **PointMan** – _8:17 pm_  
I thought I cured you of your terrible spelling.  
You disappoint me, Eames.

 **theforger** – _8:17 pm  
_ Darling! I missed you!

 **PointMan** – _8:18 pm_  
A is here.  
She wanted to know what we had been talking about.  
I was enlightening her.

 **theforger** – _8:18 pm  
_ You didn’t tell her about our mutual wank sessions, did you?

 **PointMan** – _8:19 pm  
_ Behave.

Ariadne giggled hysterically while Arthur blushed furiously.

“We’ve never…” Arthur hastily informed her.

“I need to see this Bloody Hot Men thing.” Ariadne told him. Obligingly, Arthur took her to the correct page, filled with pictures and pictures of _very_ sexy men. Some of them were barely dressed. Some wore full three-piece suits. Eames did _not_ discriminate when it came to beauty. His words, not Arthur’s. Ariadne spotted the picture of Yusuf’s friend quickly. Arthur blushed furiously at the sight and Ariadne glanced at him sideways.

“You’ve _totally_ gotten off to this picture.” She said, knowingly. Arthur glowered at him and she grinned. “You’re adorable.”

 **PointMan** – _8:20 pm  
_ A likes your Bloody Hot Men page.

 **theforger** – _8:20 pm  
_ But do _you_ , darling?

 **PointMan** – _8:21 pm  
_ Of course.

Arthur blushed and hit his forehead with his palm, cursing himself quietly. Ariadne giggled next to him.

“You have no filter with him, do you?” She asked, nudging him.

“Shut up.” Arthur muttered.

 **theforger** – _8:21 pm  
_ What’s your favorite?

“Tell him!” Ariadne insisted.

 **PointMan** – _8:22 pm  
_ What’s _your_ favorite?

 **theforger** – _8:23 pm_  
There’s one that’s a little older. It’s labelled “fap forever”.  
It’s got a guy in a three-piece suit.  
Damn.  
Just damn.

Predictably, Arthur and Ariadne went scouring his blog for said photograph. Ariadne started hitting him as soon as she spotted it. Eames didn’t lie when he said the guy was wearing a three-piece suit. The guy was relaxing in a big arm chair, legs spread almost obscenely. His hair was dark and messed up, like he had run his fingers through it a few times. His body type was _exactly_ Arthur’s body type. And his dark hair and eyes made him look astonishingly like Arthur. Hence why Ariadne was hitting him.

“All right, time for you to go.” Arthur informed her. “You’re abusing me.”

“Tell him!” Ariadne hopped of the bed, cheerfully. “ _Please!_ ”

“If I tell him will you go?!” Arthur snapped, getting irritated from too much embarrassment.

“Yes!”

 **PointMan** – _8:25 pm_  
I like the one with the guy in the sweats.  
He’s got a lot of tattoos and isn’t looking at the camera.

Arthur showed her the evidence that he _had_ , in fact, sent the messages, and then accompanied her to the door, locking her out for some peace and quiet. And a relief for his arm. He was pretty certain he was bruised. He was also _embarrassed_ to see what Eames’ reaction would be. Which was stupid, because it’s not like Eames could _see_ him. And, Arthur could always stop talking to him if he decided to make a thing of it. After screwing up his courage, Arthur took a deep breath and squinted at his screen.

 **theforger** – _8:26 pm_  
Oh.  
Thanks!

What? Arthur blinked at the messages again. _What?_

 _8:27 pm_  
I wouldn’t have picked that one for you.  
It’s kind of funny that you picked it, though.

 **PointMan** – _8:27 pm  
_ Why?

 **theforger** – _8:28 pm_  
It’s one I uploaded on a whim.  
Didn’t pay much attention to it.

Arthur’s face heated up and he thought about logging off.

 **theforger** – _8:29 pm  
_ Have you wanked off to it?

 **PointMan** – _8:29 pm  
_ None of your business.

 **theforger** – _8:29 pm_  
That’s as much of a “yes” as I’m going to get from you.  
Well, I’m flattered, Arthur.  
That you’d fap to one of my photos.

Arthur blushed. It was stupid. Eames couldn’t see him. Eames had _no idea_ what Arthur was feeling.

 _8:30 pm  
_ Don’t feel embarrassed, darling.

 **PointMan** – _8:30 pm  
_ I’m not!

 **theforger** – _8:31 pm  
_ You’re adorable. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

It was a week after they learned each other’s names and learned each other’s favorite picture to masturbate to that Arthur gave Eames his phone number. And, the worst part, was that he did it without any prompting. And he had no drugs or alcohol in his system to blame. He wasn’t emotionally distressed or distracted. None of the above. So he had nothing and no one to blame but himself. God, he was such an idiot.

 **PointMan** – _1:21 pm  
_ A is flirting nonstop with Y.  
I think they need to just get together already.  
Though, Y _is_ her TA.  
That might be frowned on by the university.

 **theforger** – _1:22 pm  
_ Only if A stays in Y’s class.

 **PointMan** – _1:22 pm_  
True.  
Hey, I have class. I’ve got to go.

 **theforger** – _1:22 pm  
_ At 1:30?

 **PointMan** – _1:22 pm_  
Okay, it’s a study group.  
We have a project to work on.  
It’s going to suck.

 **theforger** – _1:23 pm_  
Why?  
Bad at working with groups?

 **PointMan** _– 1:23 pm_  
Kind of.  
I can work with others.  
Others can’t work with me.  
I’m a dick, apparently.

 **theforger** – _1:23 pm_  
You are, darling.  
But that’s why I love you. <3

 **PointMan** – _1:24 pm  
_ You’re such a dork.

 **theforger** – _1:24 pm  
_ Made you smile, didn’t I?

 **PointMan** – _1:24 pm  
_ Shut up.

 **theforger** – _1:24 pm_  
Well, I shall wait here for you, darling.  
And probably wank off to entertain myself.

Arthur’s chest tightened, as did his pants.

 **PointMan** – _1:24 pm  
_ You could always text me if you get too bored.

And Arthur typed out his phone number.

Because he was an idiot.

Damn it all.

Arthur flushed and looked anywhere but _at the screen_ , hoping that he could magically take back what he sent. When he steeled himself and looked at the screen, Eames hadn’t replied. His phone buzzed a second later, making his heart leap out of his chest.

Unknown Number –  
 _Arthur?_

Arthur’s heart stopped.

Arthur –  
 _Hi, Eames._

Unknown Number –  
 _Darling! It IS you!_

Arthur shook his head with a smile and saved the new number in his phone.

Arthur –  
 _If I was going to give you a fake phone number, I would have done it before now._

Eames –  
 _Now, I KNOW it’s you.  
_ _You terrible flirt, you._

Arthur –  
 _Do you think Y is really interested in A?  
_ _I don’t want her to get hurt._

Eames –  
 _Nice subject change, darling.  
_ _If A is the way you describe her, she’s lovable.  
_ _She’ll have Y wrapped before he knows it._

Arthur –  
 _Yeah.  
_ _I hope so._

Eames –  
 _Trust the expert, darling._

Arthur –  
 _You’re an expert on relationships now?_

Eames –  
 _I’m brilliant._

Arthur –  
 _Uh-huh…_

Eames –  
 _The sass! It’s overwhelming!_

And, suddenly, Eames and Arthur were _texting_. Having conversations being messaged back and forth through the Internet was one thing, but _now_ … Now, Arthur could _guarantee_ that Eames would see his message without going three days completely AWOL. It had only happened once, and it was enough to cement Arthur’s feelings in his mind. Eames just up and disappeared over the winter break for a little over three days. Luckily, Arthur kept himself to a few messages a day, mostly to prevent himself from frightening him off with his neediness. When Eames returned to the site, he happily informed Arthur that flying halfway across the world was stupid and airports were dumb, as were people.

Ariadne found out when she went to dinner with Arthur, giggling about Yusuf and _how adorable he was when he blushed!_ Arthur took the opportunity to inform her that Yusuf _never_ blushed when Arthur was in his lab, which just made Ariadne embarrassed and flustered. Arthur was laughing at her when his phone vibrated. Again and again. Eames…

Arthur glanced at his phone when it vibrated. He and Ariadne had a rule about no phones at meal times, but they were allowed to _look_ to see who was contacting them. Just in case it was an emergency. Arthur didn’t realize he had smiled at his phone until he focused back on Ariadne’s face and she looked absolutely shell-shocked for a split second. That was, until her face split in a wide grin. She had his phone before Arthur even noticed she was reaching for it.

“Eames?” She blinked at him, grinning smugly. “As in… Internet Eames?”

“Who else?” Arthur snapped, snatching his phone back. He scowled at her pleased expression and pocketed his phone.

“Read it!” Ariadne insisted.

“No!” Arthur frowned. “We’re at dinner. Rules are rules.”

“Screw the rules.” Ariadne pouted. “You have a boyfriend and I need to know what’s going on with him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Arthur glowered at her. Ariadne just stared at him, eyes wide and patient. Fuck. He _hated_ it when she did that. Still glaring, he dug his phone out and opened the messages.

Eames –  
 _So, I’ve come to the conclusion that I know NOTHING about what you look like.  
_ _Which is a dumb thing to realise after we’ve been talking for months.  
_ _Especially since said conversations have been on the Internet.  
_ _But, darling, I need to know.  
_ _For scientific reasons._

“You’re smiling.” Ariadne pointed out. Arthur promptly threw a scowl on his features. Ariadne didn’t look impressed. “I’ve never seen you smile so much. He must be special.”

“He’s special all right.” Arthur muttered. “Special in the head.”

“What did he say?” Ariadne asked. Arthur obediently read the messages aloud. Ariadne squealed happily. “That’s _adorable_! He totally has a crush on you.”

“Ari…” Arthur gave her a dark look. “He’s just a friend.”

“A friend that masturbates to a picture of a guy who looks _just like you_!” Ariadne pointed out. Arthur scowled at her even as he typed up a reply.

Arthur –  
 _Do these supposed “scientific reasons” have anything to do with your dick?_

Eames –  
 _Noooo…_

Arthur –  
 _You’re such a terrible liar._

Eames –  
 _Oh contraire, darling.  
_ _I am a phenomenal liar. And actor.  
_ _You’re just perceptive._

Arthur –  
 _So, why do you want to know what I look like?  
_ _I don’t know what you look like._

Eames –  
 _I’d send you a picture, but I don’t want to scare you off. <3_

Arthur –  
 _Like you could at this point._

“You two are disgusting.” Ariadne informed him dutifully. Arthur was so engrossed in the conversation that he missed that she had moved to read over his shoulder. He flushed and turned the screen of his phone off, scowling at her. Ariadne just looked amused as she settled back in her seat. “Seriously. If you two aren’t boyfriends, then I’m a damn virgin.”

“Shut up.” Arthur said, scowling. “There’s nothing going on.”

“So he’s just sending you little hearts in a totally platonic way?” Ariadne quirked one eyebrow up at him.

“He sent me a heart before we even started talking.” Arthur pointed out. “And he’s been calling me ‘darling’ just as long, which you well know. It’s harmless. It’s just who he is.”

“Is that Yusuf?” Ariadne froze from whatever she had been planning on saying to stare over Arthur’s shoulder. Sure enough, the TA was entering the dining hall, his stupidly hot friend with him. Completely oblivious, they settled at the neighboring table behind Ariadne. Ariadne turned bright red as Yusuf took the seat behind her, forcing his friend to sit facing Arthur. Arthur looked at Ariadne harder than he ever had in his life, hoping against all hope that they weren’t noticed. He took out his phone to distract himself while Ariadne struggled with herself.

Eames –  
 _Aww, darling! <3  
_ _You DO care!  
_ _I was just curious.  
_ _You KNOW how my curiosity gets._

Arthur –  
 _You’re ridiculous._

Okay, Arthur was grinning again. It wasn’t _his_ fault that Eames was a significant enough distractions to keep him from ogling the absurdly hot individual with Yusuf. Ariadne cleared her throat and Arthur obediently looked at her, ignoring the vibration of a new text. She took a breath, to say something, when someone clapped Arthur on the shoulder, settled in the seat next to him. Arthur looked over at Robert with a heavy internal sigh.

“Hi, Robert.”

“Hey, Arthur!” Robert smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, thanks.” Arthur glanced at his phone, trying to signal to Robert that he was _not_ interested and that he was interrupting.

Eames –  
 _You say the nicest things, darling._

Arthur –  
 _Love you, too.  
_ _:-*_

Arthur was officially dumb. Stupidly dumb. Like a moronic idiot level of stupidly dumb. It was meant to be a joke, but with Robert sitting there, he just felt a little more vindictive about abusing Eames’ friendship. He was already starting to feel guilty about it, but Robert didn’t seem to notice. Yusuf’s friend started choking on his water, distracting all three of them. Yusuf’s friend passed his phone over and Yusuf started laughing, making Ariadne flush. Yusuf passed the phone back, muttering something that made his friend glower at him.

“Do you have any annoying students this semester?” Ariadne asked Robert, politely. She and Arthur were going to lose their minds if Yusuf and his friend sat near them for too much longer. And Robert was going to be privy to it, apparently.

Eames –  
 _I knew you loved me!  
_ _Come with me and be my love,  
_ _And we will all the pleasures prove!_

Arthur –  
 _Christopher Marlowe._

Eames –  
 _Stop, darling.  
_ _You don’t need to woo me any harder._

Arthur –  
 _I reiterate my previous sentiment.  
_ _You’re ridiculous._

“How are your classes, Arthur?” Robert got done talking about his students apparently.

“They’re going all right.” Arthur replied.

“You’re just being modest.” Robert said, proudly. Arthur tried to think of a good way to get _away_ from Robert, since he was already leaning closer to him and he was getting uncomfortable…

“Fischer!” Ariadne, Arthur, and Robert all looked up to see Robert’s advisor, Saito, across the dining hall. Robert regretfully got to his feet.

“Sorry.” He told Arthur, basically ignoring Ariadne. “I’m having dinner with my advisor to talk about my thesis.”

“Good luck.” Arthur said, humorlessly. They watched him walk away and Ariadne focused on Arthur.

“Is he stalking you?” She asked, quietly. Arthur shrugged, helplessly.

“I don’t think so?” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I haven’t seen him since last semester.”

“And he’s _still_ obsessed with you?” Ariadne looked worried.

“I don’t know what to do.” Arthur sighed. “I’ve told him I’m not interested. In _exactly_ those words. Multiple times. He just doesn’t get it, apparently.”

“Well, if it gets worse, go to campus police.” Ariadne stared at him hard.

“I will.” Arthur nodded. “I promise.” They sat in silence for a few moments, trying to not think about the possibility of Arthur having to contact campus police for help with his ex-TA.

“Has Eames said anything interesting?” Ariadne asked, smiling to change the subject. Arthur pulled out his phone and relayed the new message Eames had sent him before replying.

Eames –  
 _Ridiculously adorable._

Arthur –  
 _I could give you a run for your money._

Eames –  
 _We can’t prove that.  
_ _Since we don’t know what the other looks like._

Arthur –  
 _You know your favorite Bloody Hot Man?_

Eames –  
 _First of all, it’s spelled “favourite”.  
_ _Bloody colonial.  
_ _Secondly, he IS my favourite.  
_ _Of course, I remember him.  
_ _I’ve wanked to him enough._

Arthur –  
 _I look a lot like him._

“You’re telling him!” Ariadne squealed softly. “I’m so proud of you!”

Yusuf’s friend began choking again, spluttering nonsensically when Yusuf tried to get an answer out of him. Arthur was starting to get concerned. Was he all right? Ariadne also looked worried as Yusuf’s friend passed the phone over again. Ariadne touched Yusuf’s shoulder, startling him and making him turn bright red.

“Is your friend all right?” She asked.

“He’s fine.” Yusuf promised, even as his friend kept choking on his drink. “He’s just emotionally stunted.” Yusuf glanced at the phone and started snickering to himself. He passed the phone back and smiled at Ariadne. “Thanks for caring about this stupid lump.”

“It’s nothing.” Ariadne flushed.

“Just ask her out already.” Yusuf’s friend had finally overcome his coughing fit. He looked more than a little amused at their interaction. And he was British. His voice was deep and husky, though Arthur couldn’t tell if it was natural or from his choking fit. It _really_ wasn’t fair. First of all, he was attractive beyond all reason, and _now_ , he’s got a fucking _accent!_ Arthur wanted to hate him on principle. Yusuf blushed and started spluttering while Ariadne giggled nervously. Arthur glanced between the two of them with a smirk.

“She’s going to say ‘yes’, if it helps.” He added. Yusuf, Ariadne, and Yusuf’s friend all turned to look at him. Yusuf looked hopeful, Ariadne murderous, and Yusuf’s friend was amused.

“But…” Yusuf bit his lip.

“She’s then going to transfer out of your section.” Arthur added.

“I like you.” Yusuf’s friend decided, grinning at Arthur. Arthur felt his chest tighten at the words.

“Oh…” Yusuf and Ariadne looked at each other, hesitating.

“Hey!” Robert rejoined the table. “I know you’ve finished eating, but do you want to get some ice cream with me?”

“No, thanks.” Arthur smiled, tightly. “I’ve got a lot of homework.”

“Oh.” Robert looked put out for a moment. “Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?”

“No, thanks.” Arthur glanced at Ariadne, who was consumed in Yusuf’s gaze apparently. Yusuf’s friend was the only one paying attention. And he had his eyes narrowed at Robert, suspiciously. “Study session with Ariadne.”

“Oh.” Robert deflated. “Well, I’ll see you around.” Arthur didn’t respond as Robert walked away.

“Who’s that ponce?” Yusuf’s friend asked.

“No one.” Arthur muttered. “Sorry, Yusuf. You’ll have to ask her out some other time.” Arthur grabbed Ariadne and hauled her out of there, leaving Yusuf and his friend’s questioning eyes. Ariadne promptly started yelling at him for dragging her away from her one true love and how _dare_ he?! Arthur then patiently informed her of Robert’s appearance and what he had said, instantly making Ariadne pale with worry. His pocket buzzed as they walked to Ariadne’s dorm room, both of them agreeing it was better than going back to his place. Arthur ignored his phone until he and Ariadne were settled all over Ariadne’s floor, doing their homework in companionable silence.

Eames –  
 _Don’t tease me, darling.  
_ _You know how much I love that picture._

Arthur –  
 _I’m not teasing.  
_ _I’m not joking.  
_ _Totally 100% serious.  
_ _I have the same body type, dark brown hair and brown eyes._

Eames –  
 _Careful, darling.  
_ _I might start wanking off to thoughts of you._

 _I’ve already been doing that._ Arthur thought, guiltily. He glanced at Ariadne, who was engrossed in her architecture textbook, doodling with her spare hand while she read.

Arthur –  
 _As if you haven’t done that already._

Eames –  
 _Stop spoiling all my secrets.  
_ _I’m trying to be mysterious._

Arthur –  
 _You’re failing._


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur regretted intervening with Yusuf and Ariadne when, the next day, he _still_ hadn’t asked her out. The day turned into a week. Which turned into Ariadne turning into a hot mess. Arthur actually had to stage an intervention with hot chocolate, as many Oreo’s as he could buy, and a stupid amount of licorice. She liked licorice. Of course, he texted Eames every step of the way. 

 **Eames –**  
_Yeah, my friend is really down, too._

 **Arthur –**  
_Why?_

 **Eames –**  
_He likes this bird. She’s actually quite lovely.  
__But he’s terrified of asking her out.  
__Even though he KNOWS she’d say yes.  
__I mean, it’s bloody obvious she likes him.  
__And he fucking ADORES her.  
__It’s stupid._

 **Arthur –**  
_Yeah, I know that feeling._

 **Eames –**  
_I’m going to kill him.  
__It’s the only option left._

 **Arthur –**  
_What about the girl?_

 **Eames –**  
_She’ll cry at his funeral.  
__It will be very sad.  
__But then she’ll be able to move on._

 **Arthur –**  
_I just don’t get what’s taking him so long.  
__If Y likes A, he should go for it.  
__Especially since I told him A would say yes._

 **Eames –**  
_I know the feeling, love._

 **Arthur –**  
_I just don’t know what else to do._

 **Eames –**  
_There’s nothing else TO do.  
__Though, A could always ask Y first.  
__If she’s sick of waiting, just do it._

 **Arthur –**  
_I tried that already.  
__She hit me and called me stupid.  
__I reminded her about her hatred of the patriarchy.  
__She hit me again._

 **Eames –**  
_She’s probably just nervous.  
__And scared that he won’t say yes.  
__Even though he will._

 **Arthur –**  
_Yeah. Probably.  
__I’ve actually got another friend coming over to try to help.  
__A is in a pretty bad state._

 **Eames –**  
_Well, give her my love.  
__Tell her to chin up.  
__If Y doesn’t ask her out, his loss.  
__And he’s bloody retarded._

 **Arthur –**  
_I can’t decide if that’s offensive or not._

 **Eames –**  
_If you’re on the fence, it probably is._

 **Arthur –**  
_True enough._  

Arthur had hired Dom and Mal to come over and help him cheer up Ariadne. Licorice and chocolate wasn’t enough apparently, because Arthur came over to Ariadne’s after she skipped out on dinner and found her drunk. Because she was stupid like that. He promptly took all her alcohol away and hid it while she was in the bathroom. She had whined, attacked him, pouted, cried, and tried all sorts of other ways of getting her booze back. She had yet to succeed. She was being so difficult that Arthur knew he was going to need backup. Hence why he called Mal and Dom in a panic.

“Ariadne!” Mal’s sing-song voice from the other side of the door accompanied the cheery knock. Arthur let Mal and Dom in while Ariadne hugged her stuffed elephant, grumbling into the big stuffed ear about how stupid Arthur was for stealing her alcohol. Mal swept in like a storm, settling on the bed and mothering Ariadne like it was her job. Dom stood by the door with Arthur, watching the proceedings carefully.

“What happened?” Dom asked, quietly. It was obvious Mal had kept him out of the loop.

"Yusuf still hasn’t asked her out.” Arthur replied. “He knows she would say yes. It’s been a week. He was supposedly sick during her lab section, so she hasn’t seen him. I think he’s scared and being a pussy.”

“Oh.” Dom nodded solemnly.

“I’ve tried hot chocolate, Oreo’s, and licorice.” Arthur added. “Nothing. She got drunk instead of going to dinner with me. I hid all the alcohol.”

“Bastard!” Ariadne threw the stuffed elephant at Arthur, missing terribly. Arthur picked the elephant up and handed it back to the sniffling Ariadne.

“As you can see, she’s a little upset.” Arthur finished.

“You don’t say.” Dom muttered. Arthur’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out without thinking.

 **Eames –**  
_Well, he’s drunk._

 **Arthur –**  
_Gee, that sounds familiar._

 **Eames –**  
_I’ve decided our friends are idiots.  
__They belong together._

 **Arthur –**  
_If I could get A to think about someone other than Y for a moment, I’d be all for it.  
__Unfortunately, she’s drunk and pissy.  
__Luckily, M and D are here to help.  
__M likes babying people anyway.  
__So, she’s probably having fun._

 **Eames –**  
_I know people like that._  

“Who’s that?” Dom asked, nodding at Arthur’s phone.

“A friend.” Arthur muttered. Dom’s eyebrows climbed upward.

“You have friends other than us?” Dom gestured to the two women on the bed and himself.

“Yes.” Arthur snapped defensively.

“It’s his _boyfriend_.” Ariadne scowled. “I can’t get a boyfriend. But _you_ can. And you’ve never even _met_ him!”

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend.” Arthur insisted. “He’s just a friend. We’re on the same blog website. We’ve been talking for months.”

"And you gave him your phone number?” Dom looked pissed.

"He’s perfectly safe.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “And he’s British.”

“Just because he’s halfway across the world, doesn’t mean he’s safe, Arthur.” Dom frowned. Okay, so Arthur was omitting that Eames was in the same time zone, and in the same country even. But, Dom was getting pissed when he had been basically ignoring Arthur since he graduated, choosing instead to pay attention to Mal. Where before he was able to handle his studies, his girlfriend, _and_ his friends, once he got his diploma, it was like a magic trick. He suddenly could _only_ hand his fiancée and his job. Arthur was waiting for a good time to try to get Dom back in his life, but the sudden drama with Ariadne and Yusuf kind of messed up his plans. Arthur would normally be touched by Dom’s concern. But, the angry glint in Dom’s eye told Arthur that it was possessive jealousy, _not_ concern that was making Dom angry about Eames. So, Arthur got mad. Which, in retrospect, was probably a stupid decision, especially with Ariadne already upset.

“Funny, he seems to spend more time with me than you do.” Arthur snapped. Dom blinked, surprised at Arthur’s ire.

“I’m just concerned about you, Arthur.” Dom replied, testily.

“Yes. I saw how much concern you had when I first started talking to him.” Arthur tilted his head, glowering in response to Dom’s frown. “Oh, wait. That was _months_ ago!”

“I didn’t know you were talking to a stranger!” Dom growled. “If I had known you were being so irresponsible as to just _give_ your phone number out–”

“Mal knew.” Arthur interrupted, coldly. “Ariadne told her. And Mal had dinner with me. There is _no doubt_ in my mind that she told you. You two tell each other everything. Don’t fucking lie to me, Dom. You’re just pissy that he’s closer to me than you are.” Dom snapped, grabbing the front of Arthur’s jacket and shoving him bodily against the wall. The women fell silent on the bed, ignoring them while their angry tones were hushed.

“You don’t get to accuse me of _not caring_!” He snarled.

“Too fucking late!” Arthur shoved Dom back, off of him. Dom looked startled when Arthur moved him easily. Arthur hadn’t been a weakling in a long time. And he wasn’t going to be shoved around by _anybody_ , much less one of his closest friends. “Where was your concern when my TA wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone?”

“What?” Dom froze.

“Robert Fischer.” Arthur bit out. “He’s been harassing me since last semester. I tried calling you, for advice. I left you three voicemails on three separate occasions. I get to accuse you of not giving shit when you proved to me that you _don’t give a shit_!” Arthur was glad he had the door at his back, because it made escaping the room easier. He stormed out of the dorm and paced away from the building furiously. His mind whirled a mile a minute, his anger feeding upon itself. He found every reason under the sun why he had _every_ right to be angry at Dom. He made up imaginary slights against him to attribute to Dom. His phone started buzzing and Arthur shut it down, ignoring every phone call Mal, Ariadne, and even Dom made to his phone. Arthur had no doubt in his mind that Dom’s phone calls had been forced upon him by Mal.

He walked the entire circumference of campus when he finally calmed down. He sat down on a bench, not far from his own dorm, and rested his head in his hands, trying to soothe his breathing and heart rate. He hated fighting, period. He especially hated fighting with his friends. He should really go back, to check on Ariadne, and to try to mend things with Dom. He just didn’t want to deal with them right now. He unlocked his phone and it opened to the last message Eames left him.

Eames.

Arthur was dialing the phone number before he really thought about it.

It didn’t really hit him that he had _called Eames_ until the line clicked.

“H’lo?” The voice was gruff, deep, and unmistakably British. He also sounded distracted. Shit. Arthur had just interrupted something important. Right, Eames was taking care of his drunk friend. Why had he called Eames anyway? Why was he so fucking _stupid_? “Arthur?”

“Uh…” Arthur cleared his throat nervously. He did _not_ like how Eames said his name. Not in the slightest. Not even a little. Even though the pronunciation and accent gave him a full-body shiver and may or may not have made his dick twitch in his pants. He still didn’t like it. God, he was such a liar. There was a muted voice in the background asking a question.

“Give me a minute.” Eames’ voice was muffled, like he covered the microphone. “I’ll be right back. _Do not_ drink anything else.” The muted voice made a whining noise. “If you wanna bitch, go get a girlfriend.” Arthur thought about hanging up. He _was_ interrupting. Eames was trying to take care of his friend and Arthur was ruining everything.

“Arthur, darling, are you all right?” Suddenly, Eames’ deep tones were in Arthur’s ear and every sordid fantasy that he had _ever_ thought of filled his mind. Arthur almost hoped that Eames was _not_ attractive, because his voice was orgasmic. Knowing Arthur’s luck, though, Eames was probably even hotter than Yusuf’s friend. Simply because the universe hated Arthur.

“Uh, hi.” Arthur muttered. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to call.”

“Of course you meant to call.” Eames was smirking, Arthur could practically hear it. “Someone else might accidentally call. But you, darling… _You_ don’t do _anything_ on accident.”

“I accidentally yelled at my friend.” Arthur answered before he could think better of it. Eames was _already_ making him smile. It wasn’t even fair.

“Somehow, I doubt that was accidental, as well.” Eames replied. “What happened?”

“He yelled at me for giving my phone number to a stranger.” Arthur replied.

“Darling, please tell me you didn’t get in a fight over me.” Eames sighed, sounding somehow _fond_. “Then again, I’d rather _not_ know that you’re giving out your number to other people.”

“No, just you.” Arthur felt his face heat up. “And he was being a dick anyway. He just wanted to be jealous and possessive of me.”

“I can pretty much understand where he’s coming from, love.” Eames chuckled humorlessly in Arthur’s ear, making Arthur shiver. Arthur was feeling a little drunk from exposure to the gruff British accent. He took a deep breath and released it slowly.

“We were best friends back in high school.” Arthur explained. “But, he’s always been… intense. He’s two years older than me and went to college and met his now fiancée. She’s great. I love her to death. He had a similar breakdown when she and I became really good friends. He just has to get over the fact that he doesn’t have a monopoly on my life.”

“He’s probably also a little concerned, too.” Eames pointed out. “You wouldn’t have been friends with him for so long if he didn’t care _a little_.”

“Stop being logical.” Arthur sighed. “I want to be mad at him.”

“Oh.” Eames chuckled, this time _with_ humor. It was _infinitely_ more arousing than the first chuckle. “Well, you just had to say the word, love. I am a _professional_ when it comes to listening to people whinge.”

“Your friend is that bad, huh?” Arthur huffed out a soft laugh.

“Normally I don’t mind his drama, because it tends to be hilarious.” Eames replied. “And he’s been helping me out with some stuff, so I can’t really bitch that much. I am considerably worse than him when it comes to whinging.”

“I can imagine.” Arthur grinned and leaned back on the bench, letting himself lounge comfortably. Eames’ breath caught and Arthur hesitated, trying to figure out what happened. “You all right, Eames?” Eames released an unsteady chuckle.

“Yes, love.” Eames sighed. “Just admiring beauty.”

“Someone new going to end up on the Bloody Hot Men page?” Arthur chuckled.

“If only.” Eames muttered, soft enough that Arthur wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it.

“What’s been causing _you_ stress?” Arthur asked. “You haven’t mentioned anything…” Arthur trailed off, realized he was presuming a _lot_. He wasn’t privy to all the details of Eames’ life. So what if he knew about the painful divorce Eames had witnessed his parents go through? That didn’t mean he needed to know _everything_ about Eames’ life. Despite the fact that he _wanted_ to. Hell, Arthur was in love with Eames in the worst way. He had been since he panicked when Eames hadn’t responded to anything Arthur sent him for three days.

“I…” Eames hesitated. Arthur panicked that he had overstepped, sitting up and staring hard at the concrete before him as his face burned. “I have no idea how to tell you, love.”

“What?” Arthur blinked.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me.” Eames said, finally. He laughed humorlessly. “Are you avoiding talking to your friends? They’re probably worried about you. Specifically the motherly one.”

“She’s probably going to kill me for running off.” Arthur sighed, running his hand over his face.

“Time to face the music, darling.” Eames laughed, good humor abruptly back. “And _I_ have a charming drunk chemistry grad student to baby.”

“Your friend is in chemistry?” Arthur asked.

“Hey.” Eames chided lightly. “You can hear about him any time. Go mend things with your friends. We’ll talk later.”

“Fine.” Arthur pouted at the building in front of him. “But you owe me hilarious shenanigans involving your drunk chemistry grad student friend.”

“Indeed, I do.”

“Good night, Eames.”

“Good night, darling.”

Arthur hung up and stared at his phone for a little while, wondering what he should do. He didn’t want to go back to Ariadne’s dorm if Dom was still mad. He mostly just wanted to call Eames back and listen to those dulcet tones make him feel better. God, he was so screwed. He dialed up Ariadne, hoping she was marginally more sober than she had been before he left.

“Arthur!” Ariadne sounded panicked.

“I’m fine, Ari.” Arthur promised. “I just took a walk around campus. I’m sitting outside South.” He referred to the building that was right in front of him. He looked over the building while Ariadne babbled hysterically in his ear. He felt bad for leaving her when she was in such an emotional state. He shouldn’t have gotten mad at Dom. Ariadne needed him more than Dom deserved his ire.

“Ari, I’m sorry for leaving you.” Arthur said, softly, interrupting her tirade. Arthur’s eyes caught on shadow of a person standing in one of the hallways on the upper level of South. Arthur wasn’t sure what the person was looking at, since all he could see was their silhouette. He watched the person for a moment and became increasingly sure that they were watching him. Arthur pretended not to notice the person and settled back on the bench. The shadow jumped, like he had just been startled and left the window.

“Arthur…” Ariadne sighed in his ear. “Dom is still mad. Don’t worry about him. Mal ripped him a new one. He’ll get over it. I’m going to go sleep until I’m hung-over.”

“You do that, Ari.” Arthur smiled.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Ariadne hesitated.

"Of course.” Arthur promised. “It’s the weekend. I can sit and annoy your hung-over self _all day_.”

“Thanks, by the way.” Ariadne said. “For hiding my booze.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, Ari.” Arthur told her. “Go to sleep.”

“Oh, call Mal.” Ariadne ordered him, sleepily.

“Will do.” Arthur stood up and started making his way back to his room. “Good night, Ari.”

“Night, ‘thur."

Mal was irritated with Arthur for going out of contact for so long, and gave him a chewing out in vengeance. She then informed him that Dom had something to tell him and passed the phone over. All Arthur really understood from the mumbling was a gruff apology before the phone was handed back. Mal told Arthur that Dom would be contacting him with a better apology at a later time, when he wasn’t so tired and grumpy. She ordered Arthur to get some sleep, with the threat that she would be interrogating him about his “Internet boyfriend” later.

Arthur himself was glad for the sleep. It gave him something other than Dom’s shitty apology to think about. He regretted his adoration of sleep when he woke up at 3 in the morning with an aching hard on and a series of images in his mind, all revolving around Eames, and specifically, his voice. Eames crowding him on his bed, whispering the fond “darling” and “love” and _fuck_ , “Arthur”… Eames, his gentle voice coaxing Arthur to finish, to release control, to just give _in_ and… Eames growling Arthur’s name as Arthur takes him down his throat, shivering as Eames loses himself to the pleasure…

Arthur had never cum harder than he had in that moment, sweaty and overheated with his boxers shoved down _just_ far enough for him to get a hand on his dick. He didn’t even have to _work_ for it. A couple of strokes and his vision turned white as the hormones and chemicals in his brain gave him the _best_ high. When Arthur came down, he made the mistake of surveying the damage he had done. He didn’t just have a mind-melting orgasm that he had to clean. He had to take a proper shower and wash his sheets, since he got his mess _everywhere_. Yep. It was also on his pillow.

Fuck.


	7. Chapter 7

Ariadne’s squeal when Arthur answered his door nearly two weeks later was enough that Arthur was sure he had lost his hearing. Permanently. Arthur was on the phone with Eames, debating about his psychology paper, because Eames was being contrary and Arthur genuinely wanted good critique to make his paper better, when Ariadne’s Impossible To Miss, Rapid-Fire Knocking of Hysterical-ness interrupted Arthur’s _very_ good point as to why adding the word “penis” in random spots all over his paper in an attempt to emulate and mock Freud was a _bad_ idea. Ariadne skipped into Arthur’s room, squealing. She wasn’t even _talking_ , just making Arthur more and more deaf with every high-pitched squeak.

“You seem to have a squeaky toy in your room, darling.” Eames said dryly in Arthur’s ear.

“Yes.” Arthur agreed. “And if she _ever_ acts her age, I just might die.”

“Don’t do that.” Eames was sniggering. The noise was _going_ to be masturbation fodder later. Arthur had lost all sense of guilt or embarrassment over masturbating to Eames’ voice. Two weeks of intense orgasms made him basically not give a fuck anymore. “I need you alive, love.”

“Why is that?” Arthur asked, amused.

“Because I need someone to whinge at when my students are being bloody idiots.” Eames chuckled. “Also, your voice is sexy.”

“Do I _want_ to know what you’re doing right now?” Arthur asked, suspiciously. He really, _really_ did want to know what Eames was doing. Particularly if it involved his dick in some way.

“I am most definitely _not_ wanking off.” Arthur couldn’t tell if Eames was being serious or facetious.

“Eames…” Arthur was grinning, which abruptly made Ariadne stop her tirade of squeaks to focus on him.

“Oh, your squeaky toy stopped.” Eames pointed out.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Arthur tried to scowl over his smile, but based on the look on Ariadne’s face, he wasn’t succeeding. “I should go deal with her before she implodes.”

“She said yes!” An excited voice screamed in the background of Eames’ phone.

“And you’re bloody surprised about it, aren’t you? Fucking twat.” Eames replied. He was grinning, Arthur could tell. “I’ll let you go, darling, since I _do_ have my own personal annoyance to deal with as well. But I’d like something from you to tide me over until we speak next.”

“What’s that?” Arthur was abruptly suspicious. For good reason.

“What sound do you make when you cum–” Eames grunted as his friend apparently hit him.

“I’m hanging up on you!” Arthur ended the call, blushing furiously and no doubt making Ariadne even _more_ curious. Arthur steadfastly ignored his blush. “I’m guessing based on your hyperactive giggling and squealing session that Yusuf finally asked you out?”

“He did!” And Ariadne was gone, completely enamored (or enamoured, as Eames would want it written. God, Arthur was losing all sense to the man) with her newfound beau. Luckily, Ariadne had already transferred out of Yusuf’s lab after her sad, drunk evening, citing her poor heart as reason enough, so they wouldn't get into any trouble with the university (hopefully). Apparently that move was enough to kick Yusuf’s ass into gear.

“Was it romantic?” Arthur teased her before she could truly get herself going.

“Shut up!” Ariadne flushed. “I don’t see _you_ making any move on your boyfriend.”

“I will reiterate, _yet again_ ,” Arthur rolled his eyes, “That Eames is _not_ my boyfriend.”

“But you want him to be.” Ariadne pointed out. Arthur flushed. _Yes_ , he most certainly _did_.

“That is entirely beside the point.” He muttered. “Eames is… wherever he is. And I’m here. And I’m a bit preoccupied with my own personal stalker.”

“Is he stalking you?!” Ariadne must have been dizzy, going from excited to empathetic to worried in such a short time frame.

“No.” Arthur waved the thought of Robert away. “But since I’m not in his class anymore, it’s like open season for him.”

“You should get Eames to come chase him off.” Ariadne suggested.

"Eames could be a scrawny midget.” Arthur pointed out.

“You know for a _fact_ that he’s not a midget.” Ariadne replied, completely bemused. “Because of the time when he became friends with a midget because he could reach things on the top shelf of the library without being condescending or rude.”

“It was a _huge_ accomplishment for him, I’m sure.” Arthur muttered.

“ _And_ , you know that Eames has a regular work-out routine, so you know he isn’t scrawny, either.” Ariadne added. “You two are basically dating anyway. Just get Eames to come over here and be your boyfriend in real life to scare Robert off.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Arthur frowned, hating that it _wasn’t_ such a terrible idea. He’d been trying to think of ways to meet Eames in person for a while without being needy or clingy. He had been failing. But Ariadne had just given him an out. Maybe. If Eames went for it.

“It’s not.” Ariadne smiled smugly. “And you know it.”

“So, when’s your first date with Yusuf?” Arthur asked, changing the subject.

Arthur was lucky Ariadne was so easy to sway between conversations. Eames willingly went along with his abrupt subject changes, but not without mentioning that he _knew_ what Arthur was doing and was _definitely_ going to get back to the original subject later. Which, he inevitably did with annoying frequency.

“Oh, Mal wants to have dinner with you to discuss your boyfriend.” Ariadne said, glancing at her phone.

“Why didn’t she just text me herself?” Arthur asked, looking over Ariadne’s shoulder to see the message from Mal himself. He looked at his phone and blushed. She _had_ texted him. Three times. And Arthur had been on the phone with Eames and ignoring the little dings that signified texts, telling himself he’d get to them later. Well, he was a bad friend. Shit.

“Idiot.” Ariadne laughed at him for a good five minutes while Arthur called Mal, begging for her forgiveness and promising to tell her anything she wanted to know about Eames.

“Who?” Mal paused.

“Eames.” Arthur repeated, slowly. Ariadne also paused, curious as to what was going on. “He’s the guy I’ve been talking to.” Mal didn’t answer for a long minute, making Arthur worry.

“ _Excusez-moi_.” Mal spoke slowly. “I have a phone call to make.” And she hung up. Arthur looked at his phone blankly.

“What just happened?” Ariadne asked. Arthur shrugged wordlessly in response. Arthur’s phone buzzed nonstop for a good few seconds while Eames attacked Arthur’s phone with messages.

 **Eames –**  
_I’ve decided that my friend is officially an idiot._  
_Also, I miss talking to you, darling._  
_We should talk more frequently._  
_Because daily is not enough._  
_Also, my friend is so excited that he’s inventing a new alcohol._  
_I am his test subject._  
_As usual._  
_So, I’m probably a little drunk._  
_Or at least I will be.  
__When the alcohol hits._

Every time Arthur started typing up a reply, Eames hit him with a new message. Ariadne was giggling uncontrollably at Eames’ messages.

 **Eames -** __  
Okay.  
_Alcohol hit._  
_Damn.  
_ _If that dude fails at chemistry, he’d be a brilliant mixologist._

 **Arthur –**  
_I’m surprised you’re this coherent._  
_If you’re drunk.  
__You’re spelling isn’t horrendous, yet._

 **Eames –**  
_I must impress my darling.  
__Obviously. ;)_

 **Arthur –**  
_Well, since you’re drunk and in a good mood, I have some news._

“You’re seriously going to talk to him about Robert _now?!_ ” Ariadne punched him.

“Ow!”

“Stupid! If he’s drunk, he’ll try and do something stupid like come find you to save your honor!” Ariadne paused after she got the words out. “Never mind. Continue.”

“You’re not worried he’ll steal a car and drive drunk across the country?” Arthur asked.

“If he does, then he won’t be drunk when he gets here.” Ariadne pointed out.

“Driving while intoxicated isn’t a joke, Ari.” Arthur admonished.

“Right.” Ariadne nodded solemnly. “Of course.” She couldn’t help the small smile. “I bet he’d send you a picture of himself if you asked!”

“Ari!”

 **Eames –**  
_Oh, no._  
_Don’t tell me._  
_I’m already getting interrogated in French right now.  
__I’m not sure what I did, but she’s mad._

 **Arthur –**  
_Who’s mad?  
__You know French?_

 **Eames –**  
_Boarding school, love._  
_I know French.  
__But being drunk and trying to text you are taking up most of my faculties at the moment._

 **Arthur –**  
_Don’t ignore your friend to text me!_

 **Eames –**  
_I do it all the time, darling._  
_Besides, she’ll calm down in a minute._  
_Now, have news?_  
_This soudns bad.  
__Pls don’t b bad_

 **Arthur –**  
_Oh, god. You’re getting worse.  
__It’s nothing important. It can wait until you’re sober._

 **Eames –**  
_Yeah, but now i’m curious.  
__Tell me, love._

 **Arthur –**  
_One of my ex-TA’s is kind of stalking me._

Arthur’s phone was ringing nearly a second after the text had been sent. Ariadne giggled.

“Hello?” Arthur wasn’t sure how to deal with a drunk Eames.

“You’re being stalked?” He didn’t _sound_ drunk. In fact, he mostly just sounded mad. Well, more than mad. He sounded _furious_.

“No.” Arthur tried to calm Eames down. “He’s not stalking me. But he keeps trying to hit on me and ask me on dates. I’ve turned him down, but he’s not getting it.”

“This isn’t new.” Eames sounded suspicious. “You didn’t tell me about your stalker, darling.” Now Eames sounded _really_ mad.

“I thought he would stop when I was out of his class.” Arthur defended, flushing. “And did you hang up on your friend to talk to me?!”

“Yes.” Eames didn’t even sound contrite. “Now, who is this person? Where do they live? What’s his social security number?” Arthur bit back a grin.

“No, Eames, you can’t kill him.”

“I completely _can_.”

“Not while you’re drunk.” Arthur laughed. “I don’t want you to kill him.” Eames hesitated for a long moment.

“What do you want me to do, then?” He asked.

“Go have fun with your chemistry friend.” Arthur rolled his eyes, fondly. “And talk to your other friend before she kills you. I’ll talk to you later.”

“But, darling!” Okay, _now_ Eames sounded drunk.

“Quit whining.” Arthur ordered. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“But I’m gonna miss you.” Eames was pouting so loudly, Arthur could almost picture it. If he only knew what the man looked like.

“If you get off the phone with me and behave, I’ll send you a picture of me.” Arthur promised. Ariadne gasped and started freaking out as quietly as she was able to, blushing for Arthur’s sake.

“You will?” Eames sounded a bit confused.

“I promise I will send you a picture of myself if you behave.” Arthur repeated.

“Bye, love!” Eames cheerfully hung up.

“You’re going to take a picture of yourself?!” Now that he hung up, Ariadne started freaking out as loudly as she could. “I’m so _proud_ of you!” It was only when she said it out loud that Arthur realized what he was about to do. Fuck, he was stupid. He flushed and fiddled with his phone absently. Ariadne hugged him tightly. “Don’t back out, now.” She looked him in the eyes and smiled. “You can do this. I’ve got class. I’ll be back later. Don’t forget about dinner with Mal!” And she flounced out of his room, happily leaving him to his fate.

 _Don’t pussy out, Arthur_. Arthur thought to himself with a sigh. He took a quick picture of a bemused smile that didn’t make him look constipated or terrified and hit ‘send’ before he could rethink it. As soon as he saw the little “delivered”, he regretted it. What if Eames wasn’t who he thought? What if Eames was a creepy older guy? Worse, what if Eames was _exactly_ what he said he was but wasn’t interested? What if Arthur wasn’t up to his standards? What if Eames had finally gotten what he wanted and was going to abandon Arthur now that he knew who Arthur was?

Arthur’s mind buzzed in a hysterical feedback loop, making his heart pound as he breathed unsteadily. He was so _stupid_! He went through his list of terrified worries three times before he realized he was panicking. He tried to calm himself down with a few deep breaths, failing miserably even as he tried. His phone buzzed and he answered it without thinking.

“Hello?”

“Darling, I am in love with you.” Arthur’s heart stopped.

“Eames?” Eames’ voice was thick with emotion and he was probably _still_ drunk. God, Arthur was dumb. Eames was just flirting, like normal. Eames was also breathing heavily, like he had been running. Or _was_ running. What was going on? Did he decide to streak his university or something? That sounded like an Eames thing to do.

“And before you go blaming this on alcohol,” Eames continued, “I just want you to know that I’ve been in love with you since that time I couldn’t log on for three days. You left me exactly seven messages every day I was gone. You adorable idiot. I knew you missed me. And I missed you. I adore you, Arthur.”

“What?” Arthur barely dared to breathe. This was some romantic comedy shit going on right now. Only, in a true romantic comedy, Eames and Arthur would have crossed paths in person a few times, just for dramatic irony. But there was _no way_ that happened.

“Oh, and you’re fucking _hot_ , love.” Eames added. “Like, seriously _so_ much better than that bloke on my Bloody Hot Men wall. Fuck, I love you.”

“You’re drunk.” Arthur informed him, quietly.

“Yes, I am.” Eames agreed. “And I’m also in love with you. The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive, love.”

“I…” Arthur had no idea what to say. “You can’t just decide to love me _after_ seeing what I look like. That puts me at a distinct disadvantage.”

“Couldn’t agree more, darling.”

And Eames hung up.

What?

Arthur stared at his phone blankly.

Someone knocked on his door.

What?

Arthur walked to his door and opened it, too dazed and confused to utilize the peep hole.

“Hi, Arthur!” Robert stood in the hallway and Arthur’s heart sank.

“Hey.” Arthur didn’t bother smiling. What the fuck had just happened with Eames? And now Robert was _officially_ stalking him. Shit. Arthur’s life was _so_ fucked up.

“Do you want to come to dinner with me?” Robert asked, stepping into the doorway so Arthur couldn’t shut him out.

“No.” Arthur sighed, trying to focus himself. “Robert, I am _not_ interested in going out with you or dating you in _any_ respect.”

“Why not?” Robert asked.

“Because he’s got a boyfriend already, you bloody twat.”

That was Eames’ voice. But real. In person. Arthur turned wide eyes to look over Robert’s shoulder. Yusuf’s friend, the absurdly hot one, was standing there, face flushed and breathing like he had run up all three flights of stairs to get to Arthur’s room. Which, in retrospect, was probably likely.

“Eames?” Arthur blinked, jaw dropped.

“Hello, darling.” Yusuf’s friend smirked at him before turning an annoyed look to Robert. “Leave or I’ll make you leave.”

“I-I didn’t know he had a boyfriend.” Robert stuttered, backing up with his hands raised in surrender.

“You didn’t have to.” Yusuf’s friend glowered at him. “He’s been telling you for months he wasn’t interested. No means no, fuck head.” Robert stuttered out more apologies, almost running to the stairwell to get away from the Brit’s furious look. Yusuf’s friend actually followed him to the stairwell, to make sure he left. Arthur stood, frozen to the spot, as he waited for… Eames. Holy fuck that was Eames. Holy _fuck_! That was _Eames!_

“Eames?” Arthur breathed as the man came back down the hallway. The Brit smiled, wide and pleased and _perfect_. He bowed, theatrically, and when he straightened, he held his hand out politely.

“Nice to meet you, darling.”


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur found himself actually living a romantic comedy. Eames, _his_ Eames, _his_ blog friend, _his_ theforger, was Yusuf’s absurdly hot British friend. God, Arthur felt like an idiot. And Eames still had his hand held out, waiting for Arthur to respond. Arthur threw himself at Eames, desperate to make sure _this was real_. Eames caught him in a tight hug, his warm body hard and solid and _real_ as it pressed against Arthur.

“Is this real?” Arthur murmured, almost under his breath.

“I hope so.” Eames whispered in response. Arthur, for one hysterical moment, thought that Eames was going to disappear if he let go. But he needed to _see_ Eames. He needed this to be real. He pulled back and looked into the grinning face before him.

“You’re… Eames.” Arthur said, lamely. “Like, theforger.”

“That I am.” Eames nodded. “Also the one on the Bloody Hot Men page that you like wanking off to so much.” And Eames _winked_ at him.

“Fuck.” Arthur blinked at him. “It really _is_ you.”

“You doubted me?” Eames pouted. The pout only lasted a second until Eames broke out into another giddy grin.

“Cut me some slack, you’re _here_! In person!” Arthur took a step back to gesture at Eames. “How did you know where I was? How did you know _who_ I was?”

“Do you _want_ to have this conversation in a hallway, love?” Eames asked, grinning. No. No, Arthur really _didn’t_. Arthur grabbed Eames’ wrist and dragged him into his room, shutting the door behind him with a snap. Eames didn’t even look at his surroundings, just turned to face Arthur.

“I confess, love, I’m still a little tipsy.” Eames said, calmly. “Though not having _anything_ other than those concoctions of hell that Yusuf made me in addition to my lovely run in the cool air has helped.”

“Yusuf.” Arthur was trying to keep up, he really _was_ , but it was like nothing Eames said made sense. It was weird. And confusing.

“Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” Eames asked, plopping down on Arthur’s bed with a sigh.

“Okay.” Arthur sat down next to him. “You comment on my blog, I reply and then we’re having conversations.”

“We can skip a little bit, darling.” Eames grinned. “Yusuf and I went to dinner and sat next to you and Ariadne, which was on purpose, by the way.”

“It was?” Arthur blinked.

“I didn’t know who _you_ were, but I knew Yusuf was arse over teakettle for Ariadne.” Eames shrugged. “So, I made us sit there to torture him. Because he had been teasing me about you.”

“About me?” Arthur was just blindly repeating Eames’ words.

“I was in love with you.” Eames chuckled. “Yusuf was mocking my pain. Then you sent me those messages and I almost died.”

“I thought you _were_ dying.” Arthur confessed. “All I knew was that you were Yusuf’s ridiculously hot friend and then you were choking and–”

“Ridiculously hot friend?” Eames grinned, distracting Arthur.

“Well, I’m paraphrasing.” Arthur blushed. “Ari and I saw you and Yusuf at a party last semester.”

“I’m glad you think I’m ridiculously hot, love.” Eames was suddenly closer than just two friends sitting on Arthur’s bed together. Arthur had to look away from Eames to remember to breathe.

“That picture of you on you Bloody Hot Men page…” Arthur trailed off, not sure where he was going with his statement.

“Like I said.” Eames chuckled. “I put it up there on a lark. My friend took the picture as part of her portfolio. When you told me you wanked off to it…” Eames groaned, a dark sound that went straight to Arthur’s dick. “Darling, I had never been so aroused in my life.”

“I can’t believe this.” Arthur shook his head, trying to think past the blood rush as it drained from his head to his crotch. “I mean, it makes sense, in retrospect, but I didn’t think… This is like a _movie_!”

“If this is a movie…” Eames waggled his eyebrows at Arthur, “Then it’s time for the Big Kiss.”

“Is it?” Arthur teased, trying to fight down his blush.

“Well, we could straight for the porn version of this love story, but…” Eames trailed off.

“I’m not just going to jump your bones because you’re here.” Arthur frowned, crossing his arms petulantly. Yeah, sure, he _wanted_ to, but he was also trying to maintain some dignity.

“Shame.” Eames didn’t even look perturbed. “Because I was _so_ looking forward to finally being able to ravish you and–” Arthur was pretty certain he lost all his mental faculties, because he kind of attacked Eames. Insofar as he grabbed Eames’ head and kissed him while trying to straddle his hips. Eames made a small noise that might have been a growl, and then his hands, _fuck his hands_ , were on Arthur’s ass, pulling their hips together. Eames was fucking _brilliant_ at kissing, Arthur was finding. Eames kissed with passion and fire and a surprising amount of desperation, like he was drowning and Arthur was the only air left. Arthur tried to give as good as he got, losing himself in the need for more, _more please god yes!_ Arthur made a little noise in the back of his throat, which resulted in Eames biting his lower lip. The small amount of pain made Arthur’s breath hitch as it went _straight_ to his dick.

“Fuck.” Arthur said, pretty coherently for as little as he could breathe.

“That’s the idea, love.” Eames was going to be insufferable. Arthur was pretty sure he could live with that.

“Get on with it, then.” Arthur kissed Eames' lips again and again, delighting in their give and taste. He had been imagining this for so long and now he was finally able to get what he wanted. Sure, he still had questions, but when Eames’ hands were caressing his ass and his hips were grinding up into Arthur’s and those crooked teeth were nipping at his lips… Fuck his questions.

“Should have known you’d be in a fucking suit.” Eames muttered against Arthur’s lips. Arthur groaned and ran his fingers through Eames’ hair, mussing the locks in a way he always wanted to. Eames twisted them around, shoving Arthur’s back into the bed with a growl. Arthur rocked his hips upward, desperately seeking friction. “Darling…” Eames’ voice was huskier than it had been a moment before and _exactly_ the right tone to make Arthur’s brain shut down.

“Eames.” Arthur tugged on Eames’ hair so he could look the Brit in the eye. “Fuck me.” His words elicited a full-body shudder and another growl.

“You are going to be the death of me, love.” Eames informed him, eyes wild and desperate.

“ _Please_.” Arthur was slowly losing his mind. Eames was _here_. Eames loved him. Eames was hard and panting and desperate and impatiently trying to get their clothes off. Arthur pushed him back and helped in the scramble to lose every scrap of clothing between them. It took an impossibly long amount of time to get Eames out of his jeans and t-shirt and a surprisingly short amount of time to get Arthur out of his suit. Arthur was shaking in anticipation, staring hungrily at Eames and his godforsaken tattoos. Eames, for his part, seemed in little better condition, breathing heavily and just gaping at every inch of skin of Arthur’s he could see.

“Fuck.” Eames sounded ragged and lost. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Eames.” Arthur growled, losing his patience for any sort of _anything_ other than sex. He dragged Eames down into a violent, desperate kiss. Eames snarled, a sound that Arthur had somehow never imagined in all his masturbation sessions, making Arthur jerk into Eames. There was too much heat. Arthur was burning up in the inferno of his lust. His skin was starting to stick to Eames as their sweat mingled. They hadn’t even _done_ anything and Arthur _needed_. He managed to work up the mental capacity to _move his fucking hands_ , and right as he did so, Eames’ hips rocked into his, dragging their hard lengths against each other. Arthur made a sound he had _never_ made before, something embarrassingly high-pitched and needy, and it seemed to spur Eames on. His hand found their erections, and _fuck_ if Arthur didn’t almost cream himself right there. He wasn’t even sure what kind of strangled noise came out of his throat, but some part of Eames’ control must have come back, because now he was just looking at Arthur with this amused, smug, and completely enamored (enamoured?) grin.

“Don’t fret, darling.” Eames promised, stroking in a slow, hard rhythm that was doing _nothing_ to help Arthur get closer to completion, instead making him more impatient and desperate. “We’ll get there.”

“If you don’t get things moving, _now_ ,” Arthur snarled, glowering at the _goddamn tattoos_ , “I swear to God, I’m going to fuck myself on you.” Eames shut his eyes and moaned, a low, throaty sound, probably picturing that _exact_ situation and finding _nothing_ wrong with that scenario. Eames nuzzled into Arthur’s neck and nibbled on the spot behind Arthur’s ear. Arthur gasped, arching off the bed and feeling his dick twitch.

“Arthur…” Eames sounded _destroyed_. “Making threats that I’ll enjoy is _not_ going to get me to do what you want.” Arthur couldn’t really focus on what Eames was saying, he just _wanted_ and Eames was _not_ hurrying up enough for him. “Darling, we need–” Eames choked as Arthur dragged his fingernails down his back. “ _Fuck_. Love, we need condoms, lube…” Eames pulled back from Arthur, letting cool air invade the space between their bodies. Arthur blinked, trying to focus. What had Eames said again? Arthur took a deep, steadying breath and focused on Eames’ face. Eames looked like he was a split second from losing his shit altogether.

“Bedside table.” Arthur didn’t recognize his own voice. Luckily, the bed was small enough that Eames didn’t _actually_ have to go anywhere to reach said drawer. It took maybe five seconds for Eames to emerge triumphant, but Arthur was impatient. He traced the tattoos he could reach with curious fingertips. Goosebumps appeared along Eames’ torso and he looked more than a little amused as he dropped the condom on Arthur’s chest.

“So glad you fancy my ink, darling.” Eames stole quick, sloppy kiss before slicking his fingers up. Arthur spread his legs without hesitation, making Eames groan long and slow. “Love, you _have_ to stop being so fucking sexy.”

“Do I?” Arthur teased, scratching Eames’ bicep as he spoke. Eames groaned again, his hips stuttering as he dropped his forehead onto Arthur’s shoulder.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Eames informed Arthur, giving him a dark look. Not soon enough for Arthur, Eames’ finger rubbed against his hole. Arthur had never had sex with another person before, but he was by no means inexperienced with that part of his body. Particularly after all the masturbating he did to Eames’ voice. Hence why he had lube at all. Eames’ fingers were thicker than Arthur’s though, and somehow it was _more_ arousing when someone else was preparing him _oh fucking fuck fuck!_

Arthur whined at the penetration. It was only one finger, but _god_ , was it _perfect_. Eames chuckled darkly, a sound Arthur was _positive_ he was going to hear frequently and was _completely_ okay with that fact. Eames kissed him, distracting him from the fact that a second finger was causing a small amount of burn. Not that Arthur cared. God, he could get off like this. Eames’ fingers in his ass, his lips on his neck, his stubble burning a little against his collarbone. Arthur rocked his hips and struggling to keep himself from finishing right then and there. He opened his mouth to inform Eames to hurry the fuck up when _oh shit fucking Christ on a goddamned cracker!_ Arthur jerked in Eames’ arms as an odd keening noise emerged from the back of his throat. Shit, his prostate was _so_ much more sensitive when someone else was touching it. Eames grinned against the junction between Arthur’s neck and shoulder and when had he added a third finger because _shit_ Arthur was about to lose his fucking mind.

“Shhh.” Eames pressed a gentle kiss to Arthur’s lips, silencing the rambling that Arthur didn’t even know he was doing. “Relax, love. I’ve got you.” Somehow, those words made the fire in Arthur’s veins ease its ferocity to a constant, dull need. Arthur felt the muscles in his body release the tension he didn’t realize he had been holding on to. “That’s it, darling.” God, Eames’ voice was going to _kill_ Arthur. He didn’t have _any_ right to be fucking gorgeous and _sound_ gorgeous and be sexy as fuck with his tattoos _and_ be cool as a cucumber while driving Arthur up the fucking wall. Eames touched his prostate again, making Arthur choke out a gasp of air.

“ _Please_ , Eames.” Arthur knew his dick was leaking, and had been for a while, and he was just _too_ wound up to let things go quietly and _why was Eames moving so slow?!_ Eames, for his part, jerked against Arthur at the begging, a few slivers of his control snapping at the quiet desperation in Arthur’s voice. It seemed like forever before Eames’ fingers were leaving Arthur and trembling as they rolled the condom on. Arthur impatiently lifted his hips, trying to get Eames to hurry. It was stupid, how slow he was moving. Fuck, Arthur was going to hate the man if he always took this long to get to the good stuff. Eames pressed a kiss, gentle but no less passionate, to Arthur’s lips as he slid forward, breaching Arthur in one long, slow movement. Arthur was pissed about the speed, but appreciative that Eames didn’t just _stop_ in the middle. And then Eames stopped, fully seated in Arthur’s ass, breathing heavily, and face screwed up with his eyes shut tight. He panted for a few seconds before his face relaxed and he looked at Arthur.

“Are you all right, love?” He asked, breathlessly.

“I could be better.” Arthur replied, just as breathlessly. Eames tilted his head in confusion. Arthur rolled his hips, dragging a moaned curse out of Eames. “I could be getting fucked.”

“Funny, thought I was doing that.” Eames chuckled, rocking his hips slowly.

“Eames, move your ass.” Arthur growled.

“As my darling commands.” Eames grinned, pulling back out almost all the way. When he shoved forward, _hard_ , Arthur swore, arching his back in pleasure. This was better than _any_ of the fantasies or masturbation sessions Arthur had engaged and it was _so much fucking better_ than fingers. Arthur gasped for air, little involuntary noises being dragged from his throat as Eames set a moderate, but brutally forceful pace. Arthur _loved_ it. Arthur’s fingernails dug into Eames’ shoulders as his orgasm approached. Eames eyes were entirely focused on Arthur and it was embarrassing and was making Arthur self-conscious, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to care. Arthur was _so_ fucking close, it wasn’t even funny. Not even in the slightest way. Abruptly, a strong hand wrapped around Arthur’s dick and it was like a light switch. Pure pleasure erupted up his spine and his mind shut down at the influx of hormones and chemicals. The pleasure was more prolonged as Eames continued to thrust into him, hitting his prostate near constantly. Arthur made a small whining sound and blinked his eyes open to see Eames lose his shit completely.

Eames let out small, choked-off sound, and shuddered, his whole body tensing and relaxing in one swift motion. Arthur felt Eames’ dick twitch inside him and felt his own dick twitch in response. They stayed in that position for a few long seconds, both trying to calm their breathing before Arthur glanced down at the mess he had made. And he had _made a mess_. Luckily, he somehow managed to keep it from getting all over the sheets, keeping his mess-making to just Eames and himself. Eames met his gaze and a slow, smug smile lifted his lips. Arthur huffed out a chuckle and then he and Eames were just laughing. Eames pulled out of him as they laughed, sitting back on his heels and he fumbled with the condom to tie it off. Arthur sat up, wincing at the ache already blossoming in his ass.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Eames asked. Arthur smiled and kissed Eames’ jaw impulsively. God, that jaw was stupid.

“No.” Arthur promised. “Just not used to it.”

“You’re a virgin?” Eames blinked.

“You’re surprised?” Arthur shot back, getting a little defensive.

“Abso- _fucking_ -lutely, love.” Eames touched Arthur’s jaw, obviously taking note of the tension from Arthur clenching his teeth. “You’re so bloody attractive and intelligent. Damn.” Eames started muttering to himself, distracted. “I should have been slower. Fuck, I just mucked everything right up, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t.” Arthur kissed Eames to shut him up. “I wanted this. I jumped _you_ , remember?”

“You’re welcome to whenever you want, darling.” Eames replied. Arthur kissed him again.

“We should clean up.” Arthur suggested.

“We should.” Eames agreed, smirking. Arthur could tell that the smirk was going to be trouble for him. Somehow, he ended up down the hall in the shower _with_ Eames. It started innocently enough, both of them rinsing the sweat and semen from their bodies and then Eames’ hands were massaging Arthur’s back and Arthur was sighing his appreciation and then Eames had Arthur’s back against the cold tile, kissing him desperately. It was too soon for _either_ of them to get going again, but Eames didn’t seem to care.

“Not here.” Arthur pushed Eames back, blushing furiously as he glowered at him.

“You’re so easy to ruffle, love.” Eames grinned. “I just wanted a snog in the shower. Never done that before.”

“You’re _impossible_.” Arthur scowled, shutting off the water and grabbing a towel.

“You love me.” Eames took the other towel Arthur provided him with and carelessly wrapped it around his hips. God, Arthur could just look at Eames naked and wet all day long. He watched one drip of water slide down Eames’ neck, across his chest, and down his stupidly defined iliac crest. When Arthur met Eames’ gaze, the smug grin told him he wasn’t in _any_ respect subtle. Arthur huffed, trying not to pout, and led the way back to his room. Arthur collapsed on his bed, followed quickly by Eames, who seemed to not give a shit that he hadn’t properly dried off and that the bed was a twin, making it barely big enough for one adult, much less two. It wasn’t until they were settled underneath the blanket, which took a minute, with Eames curled up around Arthur, nuzzling into Arthur’s hair with a contented sigh, that Arthur’s mind started whirling again.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Eames informed him, softly. “I can _hear_ the bloody wheels turning.”

“But…” Arthur bit his lip. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, such as it was, but…

“I _adore_ you, love.” Eames informed him, leaning up to look Arthur in the eye. “Seriously. Totally sober now. I am completely and utterly in love with you and your stupid sarcastic sense of humor. If you want to kick me out, can you at least let me bask for a few minutes?”

“What?” Arthur blinked in confusion. “Kick you out? Why would I do that? I’ve been pining after you since you went AWOL on your trip back to London.”

“My darling has been _pining_?” Eames sounded delighted, which just made Arthur blush. Eames stole a kiss. “Fret not, my love, for I am here now.”

“You’re stupid.” Arthur huffed, turning to stare at the wall and _not_ pouting.

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind: Not hath Love’s mind of any judgement taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste: And therefore is Love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.” Eames nuzzled Arthur’s neck. Arthur felt his heart stop and his cheeks heat up.

“Did you just Shakespeare me?” He asked.

“Did it work?” Eames grinned.

“No.” Arthur snapped.

“Well, now I know the way to your heart, darling.” He kissed Arthur’s temple. “Just Shakespeare the shite out of you.”

“I hate you.”

“Do not.” Eames sang softly.

“Do, too.” Arthur was being childish. So what?

“Arthur!” Ariadne burst in the room. “Did you send him a pic…” She froze, staring wide-eyed at the sight of Arthur curled up in bed, obviously naked, with Yusuf’s friend.

Well, shit.


	9. Chapter 9

After Ariadne screamed, and scream she did, she turned bright red and faced the opposite wall, yelling at them to _put some clothes on for fuck’s sake!_ Which they did. Arthur was probably as red as Ariadne by the time they were both fully clothed, whereas Eames (damn him) was perfectly composed and amiable. Ariadne _insisted_ on hearing the full story, refusing to sit or even stand still. She was radiating nervous energy and panicking as quietly as she could, which Arthur appreciated, since she had already screamed and destroyed his hearing for the rest of his life.

“Ari, this is Eames.” Arthur introduced quietly. “As in _my_ Eames. He’s also Yusuf’s friend.”

“Small world, innit?” Eames smiled at her, absolutely _not_ shamed in the slightest.

“Explain.” Ariadne focused on Arthur. “Everything.”

“Do you want the full story _now_?” Arthur asked. “I’m going to have to tell Mal at dinner anyway and I’d rather not go through it twice.”

“All right, fine.” Ariadne huffed, impatiently.

“Wait, Mal?” Eames blinked. “The world isn’t _that_ bloody small, is it?”

“What?” Arthur looked at his… boyfriend? Eames had called himself that, but it could have just been a ploy to get Robert to go away, but then again they _did_ have sex and then Eames quoted Shakespeare like a little shit and–

“You’re thinking too loud again.” Eames informed Arthur, once he pulled back from the kiss. Ariadne squealed, making both men flinch. “One of my best mates growing up is a French lady by the name of Mallorie Miles.” Both Ariadne and Arthur stared at Eames.

“There’s no fucking way…” Arthur muttered.

“ _That’s_ why Mal hung up on you!” Ariadne gasped. “Arthur let your name slip when he was talking to her earlier.”

“ _That’s_ why she called me.” Eames narrowed his eyes. “That bitch. She knew you this whole time and never introduced us.”

“Eames!” Arthur slapped himself in the forehead. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot!” Arthur hung his head, blushing horribly at how _really fucking dumb_ he was. Both Ariadne and Eames were staring at him. Arthur sighed. “Mal mentioned you back when we first started talking on the Internet. She was talking about her wedding and how you’re her man of honor. She offered to set us up.” Ariadne started giggling uncontrollably while Eames just gaped at Arthur.

“You mean we could have been having blissful sex this _whole time_?!” Eames pouted. “You prat.”

“I didn’t know it was you!” Arthur defended himself. “We had just started talking! And I’ve been set up by Mal before.”

“Me, too.” Eames hesitated in his mock-ire. “And she’s pretty bad at it, come to think of it.” Eames then gave Arthur a look. “How did you not recognize the name, love?”

“I did!” Arthur flushed. “I mean, I _recognized_ your name, I just couldn’t remember where I heard it before. And ‘Eames’ isn’t exactly an uncommon name.”

“I still love you, darling.” Eames grinned, pulling Arthur into a kiss.

“You two are disgusting.” Ariadne informed them dutifully.

“I hate you.” Arthur replied.

“He says that a lot.” Eames noted. “It’s a shame we can translate his bull shite.” Ariadne giggled at the glower Arthur sent Eames.

“Did you ever call Mal back?” Arthur asked.

“Nope.” Eames grinned unabashedly. “Let’s just surprise her at dinner, yeah?”

“You’re terrible!” Ariadne laughed. “She’ll _kill_ you!”

“She can’t.” Eames preened. “I’m her man of honor! And I’m also her darling Arthur’s boyfriend. I am protected by my position.” Ariadne gave Arthur a dirty look.

“Boyfriend?” She asked, still looking at Arthur, and making him blush furiously.

“I’m fucking in love with him.” Eames shrugged. “ _And_ he’s just so adorable. I just have to keep him.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Arthur snapped.

“Of course, darling.” Eames gave him a bemused look. “Don’t you want to be my boyfriend?” _Yes, please_.

“That’s not the point!” Arthur stuttered. Ariadne and Eames burst out laughing. Arthur glowered at them.

“I hate you both.”

“Come on, I’m meeting Yusuf for dinner.” Ariadne grinned. “We’ll go together and meet Mal.” Eames stood up and offered Ariadne his hand.

“We haven’t officially met.” He said by way of explanation. “I’m Eames, the roommate to your boyfriend Yusuf, the best mate to your friend Mal, and now boyfriend to your best mate Arthur.”

“Nice to meet you, Eames.” Ariadne grinned. “I’m Ariadne. You already know all about me, don’t you?”

“Arthur only whinges about you.” Eames informed her dutifully.

“Fuck.” Arthur complained. “I should have known you two would get along.”

“It’s a good thing, darling.” Eames helped Arthur to his feet. “Your boyfriend _should_ get on with your friends.”

“You’re abusing the title.” Arthur told him, blandly.

“I’m allowed to.” Eames said, smugly. “I’ve been calling you my boyfriend in my head for _weeks_ now.”

“You’re disgusting.” Ariadne sang from the door. “Let’s go! I can’t _wait_ to tell Mal!”

And that’s how Arthur ended up under Eames’ arm while they walked to the dining hall, smiling to himself as he listened to Ariadne and Eames banter. Of course, Yusuf was already there, alerted to the situation by a text from Ariadne, grinning like a moron.

“Thank God you said yes.” Yusuf said, shaking Arthur’s hand. “This idiot has been _impossible_.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Eames replied. “I didn’t know who my darling was. You knew _and_ you knew she would say yes. I think _you’re_ the bigger prat.”

“I was a little nervous.” Yusuf blushed, trying to defend himself.

“I _knew_ it!” Mal’s voice was as close to a scream as she ever got. She ran up to Arthur, hugging him tightly before treating Eames to the same. She started talking in French, as she was want to do when excited, and her exuberance made Arthur smile.

“Mal!” He interrupted her French tirade with gentle French of his own. “ _Calm down. We’re going to explain everything over dinner._ ”

“Good.” Mal blushed adorably as she realized she had been babbling in French. “Shall we eat?”

“Yes, let’s.” Yusuf agreed, holding open the door patiently for Ariadne. Well, for everyone, but mostly Ariadne. Arthur looked at Eames, who was gaping blankly at Arthur.

“What?” Arthur asked, defensively.

“You speak French.” Eames said, as blankly as his face was.

“Yes.” Arthur nodded slowly.

“Darling, if we weren’t in public, I would ravish you right here.” Eames informed him, slowly coming back to himself. Arthur flushed.

“I told you I could speak French.” Arthur reminded him.

“Yes, but now I’ve _heard_ it.” Eames stole a kiss. “And I am so wonderfully fucked, love.”

“You were earlier.” Arthur muttered. Eames laughed.

“Are you two coming or what?” Yusuf grumbled, still holding the door open.

It took maybe five minutes for everyone to get their food and settle down at a table together. Mal wasted no time in interrogating them, choosing them to be her entertainment while she ate. Arthur and Eames traded off going through a basic run down of what had happened since they first started talking online. Eames relayed that he found Arthur to be utterly adorable when he first saw him in the dining hall with Ariadne and was concerned when Robert chased Arthur and Ariadne off. Arthur had to admit again, embarrassingly enough, that he didn’t make the connection between Mal’s best friend Eames and his Internet friend Eames.

“Then, he sent me a picture of himself and I was so excited.” Eames grinned. “Because the darling who was Ariadne’s friend was _my_ darling and one of Yusuf’s old students. So, I had to run and confess my love.”

Obediently, Mal and Ariadne _awww_ ed.

“How did you know where I live anyway?” Arthur asked.

“Yusuf knew your surname and I just looked it up on the student directory.” Eames shrugged.

“ _I_ am the reason you got together!” Yusuf claimed. “Praise me!”

“They were already together.” Mal waved Yusuf away. “Just not physically. If Eames had been paying attention to me when I called earlier,” She pinned him with a glare, “He would have learned that his Arthur was _my_ Arthur and I would have given him Arthur’s surname anyway.”

“They would have figured it out eventually.” Ariadne pointed out. “Arthur’s oblivious, not an _idiot_.”

“Hey!” Arthur complained.

“Well, mostly.” Mal agreed.

“Oi!” Eames pouted at Mal. “That’s my boyfriend you’re making fun of.”

“You’re adorable.” Mal smiled at him. She then turned dark looks on both Yusuf and Eames. “You’re both robbing the cradle.”

“We’re not!” Yusuf defended.

“They’re in university!” Eames added.

“They’re undergrads!” Mal snapped. “Now, if _either_ of you do _anything_ to hurt _mes poulettes_ , I _will_ make you regret being male.” Both Eames and Yusuf paled, swallowing tightly.

“What if we break their hearts?” Arthur asked, amused.

“Don’t be silly, _mon chou_.” Mal patted Arthur’s head. “If you two try to hurt Yusuf or Eames, we’ll have a nice chat and get you back together.” Ariadne and Arthur shared a look.

“You’re scary, you know that, Mal?” Ariadne asked.

“I am.” Mal smiled demurely, which was probably the most terrifying reaction she could have. “Now, you’re all coming to the wedding, no?”

And then the conversation turned towards Mal’s upcoming nuptials to Dom. Which was a more comfortable topic for everyone involved. After all, keeping Mal happy was better than dealing with her under _any_ other capacity. Mal left first, claiming she had so much to do now that all her friends were paired up. Which didn’t really make any sort of sense to anyone, but no one said anything. Then, Yusuf invited Ariadne to go on a walk with him and they also left, Ariadne giggling and Yusuf blushing.

“Well, since we’ve been abandoned, darling,” Eames stood up and offered Arthur his hand, “Shall we?”

“Where are we going?” Arthur asked, taking the proffered hand with a small smile.

“Anywhere you like.” Eames grinned at Arthur as they started walking aimlessly. “I never would have guessed that you have _dimples_ , love.”

“What’s wrong with my dimples?” Arthur asked.

“They’re _disgustingly_ adorable.” Eames nodded knowledgably. “As are you, love.”

“So, we’re dating now.” Arthur said, slowly.

“If you like.” Eames allowed. “ _I_ like, but we both need to be on the same level on this.”

“I like.” Arthur muttered. “Probably too much.”

“Have you wanked off to me?” Eames asked, grinning. “I have wanked off to you, specifically your voice, more often than I should probably admit to.”

“I am not telling you anything.” Arthur said, calmly, managing to withhold his blush. Eames looked at him sideways for a moment before he smirked.

“You _have_! You rascal. I know I’m delightful, but you should really be careful of overinflating my ego, darling.”

“You’re obnoxious.” Arthur sighed.

“I am.” Eames agreed. Arthur smiled, looking at the ground as they walked. “Dimples!”

“Prove my point, why don’t you?” Arthur actually laughed. It was stupid that Eames could get him to smile all the time. He was certain his face was going to start aching if he spent too much time with the man. They only walked in silence for one minute before Eames was itching with inactivity.

“Well, tell me about yourself, darling.” Eames prompted.

“You already know about me.” Arthur pointed out. “I’m pretty sure the only thing you didn’t know was my location and what I looked like. Which, obviously you know now.”

“True enough.” Eames agreed. “But there are plenty of things I still don’t know about you.”

“Like what?” Arthur asked.

“Like what sort of sexy noises you make when I’m sucking your cock. Or giving you a rim job. Darling, the noises you could make…” Eames tried to sigh romantically, but Arthur had punched him, making him laugh instead. Arthur flushed and scowled, trying _not_ to be aroused by the idea.

“You’re an ass.”

“That I am.” Eames dragged Arthur over to the side of the library and shoved his back against the wall, stealing a kiss. Arthur absolutely loved the fact that he melted against Eames. Not that he’d tell Eames that. Eames kept his body a few scant inches from Arthur’s, only maintaining contact with their lips. And it was pissing Arthur off a little bit. It was a little late to be leaving room for Jesus.

“You’re stupid and I hate you.” Arthur breathed, when Eames pulled back.

“Ah, that mouth.” Eames pecked his lips quickly. “Darling, I adore you.”

“I love you, too.” Arthur blushed. The smile Eames gave him was _totally_ worth it, though. The space Arthur had hated so much just a moment ago was now nonexistent as Eames pressed him against the wall, kissing him desperately. Fuck, Arthur was _never_ going to get tired of kissing Eames. Absolutely _never_. Arthur pretty much stopped paying attention to anything but Eames, his lips, his hands, his warmth…

“Seriously?!” Ariadne’s voice split them up again, but this time Eames looked positively _wrecked_ while Arthur somehow maintained his composure. Arthur looked over to see Yusuf and Ariadne holding hands, looking somehow both annoyed and amused at once.

“What?” Arthur didn’t even flinch.

“You’ve only known each other for a couple hours!” Yusuf pointed out.

“And we’ve already had sex.” Arthur shrugged. “Don’t hate just because you’re not getting any, yet.”

“I hate you.” Ariadne blushed while Yusuf shifted uncomfortably.

“Besides, according to Ari, Eames and I have been dating for _months_.” Arthur reminded her.

“Be nice, love.” Eames was grinning as Arthur shamed their friends.

“They’re cock-blocking me.” Arthur grumbled under his breath. Eames laughed.

“I’m turning you into a monster.” He ruffled Arthur’s hair with a grin. It was only then that Arthur realized he had gone out in public without his hair slicked back. In fact, even his clothes were out of the ordinary, as he just threw on the closest jeans and t-shirt he could grab. “A bloody nymphomaniac.”

“I don’t hear you complaining.” Arthur found the decency to blush.

“Nope.” Eames kissed the soft spot behind Arthur’s ear and took his hand. “Let me go ravish you against a wall, darling.”

“You’re disgusting!” Ariadne called after them. She was promptly told off by a group of people accusing her of homophobia. Arthur laughed as they walked away, listening to Ariadne try to explain that Arthur was her _friend_ , damn it, and she knew he was gay before _he_ did, which was a blatant lie, but they didn’t know that.

“Are you seriously going to…” Arthur stuttered to a stop at Eames’ expectant grin. “Against a wall?”

“Darling, I have been lifting weights for a long time just for the ability to fuck against a wall should I ever want to.” Eames replied, smugly. Arthur just blinked at him for a long moment.

“You’ve been working out to have sex against a wall?” Arthur asked slowly. Eames burst out laughing.

“I’ve been working out so I can have sex _wherever_ I want.” Eames spotted the tiny blush on Arthur’s cheeks. “But I’m guessing the wall thing is what’s sticking in your mind.”

“No.” Arthur fought his blush valiantly.

“Do you have a fantasy to share with the class, love?” Eames grinned.

“No!”

And _that_ was how Arthur ended up against the wall of Eames’ bedroom, making all sorts of embarrassing noises that Eames adored and scrambling for purchase while Eames thrust into him again and again and again. Like he _knew_ what Arthur was thinking, Eames murmured husky pet names and praises in Arthur’s ear the whole time. Arthur didn’t think about the fact that he had just messed up both his shirt and Eames’ shirt. In fact, he didn’t think much of _anything_. Eames lowered his legs to the floor, letting him stand under his own, albeit shaky, power. Eames used a washcloth to help clean up as much as possible, but they just ended up naked, curled up in Eames’ bed. Arthur was about to drift off to sleep when he glanced at the clock on his phone.

“Shit.” Arthur groaned.

“What?” Eames mumbled, sleepily.

“I’ve got class in the morning.” Arthur sighed.

“Mmkay.” Eames didn’t seem to grasp the issue.

“I have to go back to my room.” Arthur said. “I’ve got homework to do. And I’ve got clothes there.”

“All right.” Eames blinked himself back to awareness and yawned, watching Arthur get out of the bed. Arthur knew that Eames was enjoying his nakedness _far_ too much. When Arthur started retrieving his clothes from the floor, he finally noticed the disaster that his shirt and pants had become.

That led to Arthur having to ask Eames to borrow some clothes.

Which led to Arthur putting on said clothes.

Which led to Eames promptly taking them off again and fucking him silly again.

Not that Arthur was complaining.

Except he still had homework.

Whatever.


	10. Epilogue

Seven months, one week, three days, seventeen hours, four minutes, and thirty-eight seconds later…

Not that Arthur was counting or anything.

Mal’s wedding was the most beautiful wedding Arthur had ever seen in his life. And that statement had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the fact that Mal threatened him with bodily harm should he try to claim otherwise under _any_ circumstances. Nope. Not in the slightest.

Eames was stupidly gorgeous in his tuxedo, though Arthur _knew_ that Eames would say the same thing to him. Eames stood happily next to Mal, his eyes focused entirely on Arthur as Arthur stood next to Dom. Dom had gotten over his little temper tantrum, finding it hilarious that Arthur and Eames had basically missed each other for months before they figured it out. Mal kept him from teasing them too much when she reminded him that she had to flat-out flash Dom to get him to realize she liked him. Which was a story Arthur _never_ wanted to hear ever again.

Arthur, as the boyfriend to Mal’s man of honor, got to hear _way_ too much about planning weddings than he ever wanted to hear. And, since Eames was suffering with Mal’s excitement that meant Arthur was, too. Arthur drew the line when Mal started asking him his opinion on flowers and flower arrangements when he was in the shower. The worst part was: the damnable woman _wouldn’t leave_ until Arthur promised to think about it. Which he never wanted to do. Ever.

Eames and Arthur had to have a heart-to-heart with Mal when she barged into their apartment right after they finished having sex. At the very least, they were _finished_ when she walked in, but her presence completely ruined the post-coital hum of hormones in their systems. They hadn’t even been able to clean themselves up when she walked in. And, what was probably the worst part about _that_ scenario was that Mal didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest that they were covered in sweat and semen and spit (Eames liked to lick). It actually messed with Arthur so much that he _refused_ to ride Eames unless they could _guarantee_ that they wouldn’t be interrupted.

Eames since eased Arthur’s anxieties about that.

“Congratulations!” Arthur hugged Dom and Mal, grinning excitedly as soon as the ceremony finished. Eames got to them next. Arthur was _not_ expecting to be pulled into a hug as soon as Eames let go of Dom. Though, to be fair, he should have expected it. Eames was a big proponent of PDA, much to Arthur’s chagrin. Well, Arthur was getting used to it. Though, he had a firm line for groping. Kissing and hand-holding was all well and good, but Eames learned (the hard way) that as delectable as Arthur’s ass supposedly _was_ , he would _not_ be having sex for a week if he grabbed said flesh in public.

Arthur was still hearing the whining about _that_ one.

“Kiss me, darling.” Eames grinned, like an idiot. And Arthur kissed him. Because he was the bigger idiot, apparently. Nothing had gone wrong all day, which should have been _some_ sort of omen, but Arthur was too busy being glad that nothing happened, because he did _not_ want to deal with Mal’s wrath or Dom’s panic. Well, any more than he already had to. In fact, the only reason Dom was still standing there, smiling at their friends and family was that Arthur had plied him with alcohol. Not too much, because Arthur wasn’t suicidal, but enough to keep the man compliant and easy to deal with. But, it didn’t matter anymore, because the ceremony was done. Now, Dom was Mal’s responsibility.

“You’re impossible.” Arthur rolled his eyes at Eames.

“And you accomplish six impossible things before breakfast.” Eames shrugged. Arthur rolled his eyes again and let his boyfriend drag him along to the reception. Arthur smiled and watched Ariadne cry into Yusuf’s shoulder while Dom and Mal shared their first dance. It was the most beautiful wedding Arthur had ever been to and Mal was the most beautiful bride he had ever seen. It wasn’t even a lie anymore. Not that the first iteration of that was a lie. Because it wasn’t. But with the stupid warmth in his stomach, the amusement of watching Ariadne cry and Dom struggle to dance, and the presence of Eames beside him made Arthur more than a little sappy in the moment. God, he was stupidly in love if he was getting emotional at watching Mal and Dom dance.

“Let’s dance, darling.”

Before Arthur could properly respond, Eames was pulling him to the dance floor, joining Mal and Dom with a charismatic grin. Eames liked to drag Arthur into things he normally wouldn’t do, barely giving him the time to _think_ , much less object. And, once in the middle of the floor, Arthur had no choice but to dance with Eames, trying and failing to hide his blush. It didn’t take long after that for the other guests to join the dancing. And then Arthur was dragged from Eames to dance with Ariadne, abandoning Yusuf and Eames together.

“I’m so happy.” Ariadne informed Arthur, as they danced.

“Me, too.” Arthur agreed.

“Why do I feel like the other shoe is about to drop?” Ariadne asked.

“Because we’re pathetic and can’t believe that our lives could _actually_ be happy.” Arthur replied.

“We _are_ pathetic still, aren’t we?” Ariadne sighed. “I hoped we grew out of it.”

“We don’t grow out of things.” Arthur teased. “I mean, we both had crushes for almost two years in high school.”

“Yeah.” Ariadne scowled for a moment before she grinned. “At least we have men who are totally in love with our pathetic selves.”

“True.” Arthur nodded.

“Speaking of,” Ariadne started giggling and nodded over Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur glanced over to see Eames and Yusuf attempting to dance together, with both of them trying to take the lead. Yusuf looked distinctly uncomfortable while Eames could barely breathe through his laughter. Arthur and Ariadne started laughing at their boyfriends, distracting them. Eames broke off from Yusuf to grab Arthur, dip him, and give him a deep kiss. Arthur glowered at him when Eames set him back on his feet.

“We’ve done _so_ much worse in public, love.” Eames informed him dutifully.

“I am _never_ dancing with you again.” Yusuf scowled at Eames, wrapping a habitual arm around Ariadne.

“ _We’ve_ done worse in public.” Eames pointed out. “And we were both sober.”

“Don’t mention _that_.” Yusuf flushed.

“Mention what?” Ariadne blinked, looking between Eames and Yusuf.

“Let’s just say that, by all rights, we should have been completely smashed.” Eames said. “But we weren’t. And _don’t_ give Yusuf a pineapple.”

“A what?” Ariadne gaped at her boyfriend. “Yusuf, explain.”

“Eames!” Yusuf looked betrayed while Eames led Arthur away with a smug grin.

“You’re going to be killed by him one of these days.” Arthur said.

“He loves me too much.” Eames denied. “Not unlike someone else I know.”

“I love you.” Arthur agreed. “But you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously hot.” Eames corrected with a grin. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“You’re _never_ going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Never.” Eames smiled beatifically.

“So, what’s up with the pineapple thing?” Arthur asked.

“Curious, darling?” Eames teased.

“Just tell me.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

Eames told him.

Arthur couldn’t breathe by the end of the story. He was horrifically embarrassed on Yusuf’s behalf. Not so much Eames’ behalf. Since Eames had no shame. Literally. Once they started dating, _in person_ , Arthur learned _exactly_ how little shame Eames had.

“Don’t tell Ari.” Eames told Arthur, mock-seriously.

“It’ll drive her crazy!” Arthur gasped for air.

“Exactly!” Eames grinned. “Yusuf will _never_ tell her what _really_ happened.”

“You’re evil.” Arthur smiled so widely his face hurt.

“Shhhh, darling.” Eames turned Arthur around and pointed at Yusuf, who was blushing madly, on one knee, with a ring out. Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat. Mal and Dom were grinning madly on the other side of Yusuf while Ariadne started sobbing. She managed to get out a shaky nod and the entire wedding erupted in cheers, while she practically tackled Yusuf to the ground.

“You knew?” Arthur asked, feeling his eyes well up at the sight.

“Of course I knew.” Eames wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist, resting his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. “I helped him pick out the ring.”

“I assume Mal knew.”

“Darling, I’m evil, _not_ suicidal.” Eames replied. “There was _no way_ I was going to let Yusuf propose at Mal’s wedding unless Mal gave the approval.”

“Well, at least I know she’s not going to kill you, yet.” Arthur grinned. Eames kissed his neck.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Before Arthur could really bask, Ariadne dragged him away, squealing and giggling hysterically through her tears, talking almost nonstop. Arthur threatened to drug her unless she stopped to breathe. Dom joined them, enjoying the fact that the spotlight was no longer on him, and joining Arthur in his merciless teasing. It wasn’t long before Ariadne turned the tables on him, though.

“You’re next.” She told Arthur. She had finally stopped crying, which was probably for the best. Arthur was about to run out of napkins.

“What?” Arthur blushed. He glanced over at Eames, who was laughing with Yusuf and Mal.

“Just wait.” Ariadne smiled. “It won’t be long now, not with me and Yusuf engaged and Dom and Mal married.”

“She’s right.” Dom agreed.

“I don’t think Eames is ready for _marriage_.” Arthur pointed out.

“Stop blaming him because you’re insecure.” Ariadne replied.

“I’m not!”

“You are.” Dom and Ariadne chorused.

“I hate you both.”

Arthur was luckily spared from his friends when the DJ announced it was time for the bouquet and garter toss. Ariadne tried and failed to drag Arthur onto the floor with her. Eames, however, seemed more than amused enough to get involved with the shenanigans. Mal turned her back to the crowd of women (and Eames) and hefted her bouquet. She turned around and pitched it straight at Eames’ face, a smug smirk on her features. Eames barely got his hands up in time to keep himself from being beaten with a bouquet. Arthur knew what his friends were doing and he was having _no_ part of it. Eames, however, seemed to think it was funny. He walked over to Arthur and theatrically offered Arthur the bouquet. Arthur glowered at his boyfriend until Eames cut it out.

“It’s all in good fun, love.” Eames stole a kiss. “No harm.”

“You _want_ to get married?” Arthur asked.

“What?” Eames blinked. “I mean, _eventually_ , sure. But, you’re still in university and I’ve got to finish my thesis and then I want to show you London and Paris, because you’d _love_ Paris, darling, and you need to meet my mum and–”

Arthur kissed him.

Eames had a dorky grin on his face when Arthur pulled back.

“I love you.” Arthur smiled.

“I guess I passed?” Eames grinned.

“It wasn’t a test.” Arthur sighed, rolling his eyes. “I just didn’t know you had plans that involved _us_.”

“Of course I do.” Eames chuckled. “When _don’t_ I have a plan that involves us?”

“You don’t have _plans_.” Arthur replied. “ _I_ have plans that _you_ muck up.”

“You said ‘muck’!” Eames got side-tracked rather quickly. “I’m going to make a Brit out of you, yet!”

“Well, you succeeded on the tea, part.” Arthur agreed. “And I’d love to meet your mother. And go to Paris and London.”

“Good, because I’m taking you.” Eames nodded sagely.

And then Eames kissed Arthur in the stupid way that made Arthur’s knees weak. Eames made it his mission to kiss Arthur senseless, heedless of what was going on around them, like the garter toss. Dom used the garter as a sling-shot to hit Arthur in the face while they were kissing. He missed and hit Eames instead. Eames yelped in surprised and turned to glower at Dom, who was snickering. Dom didn’t count on Eames chucking the bouquet at his face, and therefore got a mouthful of flowers for his trouble. Everyone laughed and the DJ started up the music again, distracting everyone from the spectacle of Dom trying to spit flowers out.

“What made me love thee? let that persuade thee there's something extraordinary in thee. I cannot: but I love thee; none but thee; and thou deservest it.” Eames murmured in Arthur’s ear. Arthur flushed and frowned at his boyfriend.

“Are you going to quote Shakespeare at me whenever you feel romantic?” He asked. He didn’t _need_ to ask, because he already knew the answer. Which was a resounding and obnoxious yes. Eames must have had everything Shakespeare wrote memorized with how much he quoted the bard flawlessly.

“I told you.” Eames kissed Arthur. “I’m going to Shakespeare the shite out of you.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too, darling.”

END


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